


Episode 1: A Trio (In Love) Saves the Galaxy

by bluestalking, feverbeats



Series: A Star War Trilogy [1]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestalking/pseuds/bluestalking, https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverbeats/pseuds/feverbeats
Summary: Padmé watches them kiss. She watches them fight, first, and between the two things, that’s what shakes her more. It’s true that this is the first proof she’s ever had that they’re involved--Anakin has never breathed a word, and her feelings about that are complicated--but she’s known, always, that it might be true. If Anakin’s neediness didn’t tell her, the way Obi-Wan holds himself back would.The fighting is what shakes her. That’s what makes her decide.[Anakin, Padme, and Obi-Wan hide out from assassins on Naboo, have feelings, get some, and possibly topple a Sith lord. Sometimes what you need is a happy ending AU with everyone in love. Post-Attack of the Clones.]





	Episode 1: A Trio (In Love) Saves the Galaxy

**Author's Note:**

> When we wrote this part, we hadn't seen any Clone Wars yet. This episode is straight up Prequel Trilogy. The sequels will have more Clone Wars as they go on, but you don't need that at all for this part, and it stands alone. PS there is a little bit of Jedi Apprentice in here, too. Remember those things?!

i.

Obi-Wan and Anakin no sooner land on Coruscant than they’re summoned to meet Mace Windu at the Temple. 

“I hope it’s another assignment,” Obi-Wan tells Anakin as they hurry to their meeting. “The other option is that our mysterious accidents are starting to worry him. And if he worries, I’ll have to worry.”

"Master, you're never worried," Anakin says placidly. "Still. I was hoping for a few days here, at least. To rest."

“Yes, rest,” says Obi-Wan, on the edge of making a joke before he realizes what Anakin is talking about and veers away from it. That first confrontation had been enough; he doesn’t want to revisit it. “I mean, yes. Of course.”

Anakin is moody after that, probably contemplating the idea of having to leave immediately. When they get to the Temple, Master Windu is waiting.

"Did you summon us to congratulate us on our rousing success with the last mission?" Anakin says, with just a cursory bow by way of greeting.

Master Windu waits until the door has shut between them and the world and says, expressionlessly, “Congratulations.”

“What is it, Mace?” Obi-Wan asks. “A mission?”

“Not exactly,” says Master Windu. “While you were gone--you had another one of those peculiar coincidences? Of the sort that almost gets you killed?” 

"We're in a war, Master," Anakin says patiently--and a little petulantly. "We have a lot of enemies. Everybody we know is almost getting killed every day."

Master Windu’s frown spears them both like a bird of prey. “You know the difference, Skywalker. Besides, while you were out getting normally nearly killed as far away as Pantora, someone else is being targeted here on Coruscant in a shockingly similar fashion. Doors that don’t obey commands. Air conditioning spewing poison gas. Falling roof tiles.”

“Who?” says Obi-Wan, frowning right back.

“Senator Padmé Amidala,” says Master Windu.

"What?" Anakin says sharply. "Padmé? Is she all right?" He doesn't seem to spare a thought for subtlety.

“I’m sure if Senator Amidala were hurt, Master Windu would be telling us so,” Obi-Wan says, trying not to sound as if he wants to stuff Anakin into an invisible box. He’s spent the last two months determined not to be the one who lets their secret out. All they need is Anakin saying something unguarded and ruining it for himself. 

"Right," Anakin says, taking a deep breath. "So someone's trying to take out the most effective people in the Republic. Not a huge shock. We'll just keep being careful and set a round-the-clock guard on the senator."

“I don’t think so,” says Master Windu. “We can’t have you two on the front lines while you’re distracted with assassins. And we can’t settle for the defensive for the senator. We’re going to smuggle the three of you offworld--an empty cargo ship, returning home from a delivery on Coruscant. You’ll separate from the ship at a certain point, and hide on Naboo until we’ve figured out who’s targeting you. Senator Amidala has already suggested a safe location for you to stay.”

“ _Hide?”_ says Obi-Wan. “Mace, you can’t be serious.”

"Senator Amidala agreed to this?" Anakin demands. "She must be worried if she's agreed to leave Coruscant." He sounds as unhappy as Obi-Wan about the idea of being taken out of the action.

“Well,” says Master Windu, like swallowing a pill, “she only agreed to give us ten days. And she took quite a lot of convincing. But they were close calls.”

Anakin looks as if he's going to vibrate out of his skin. "We defer to your judgment, of course," he says, which are words Obi-Wan has never heard come out of his mouth before.

He himself very much does not want to say them.

“Send Anakin and Padmé, then, but I need to be on the front,” he says.

“You need to be out of the way,” says Master Windu.

“I’ll solve this assassin business myself,” Obi-Wan suggests.

“You’re going to Naboo,” Master Windu retorts.

"You know you'll die if I'm not around to save you at the last second," Anakin says, putting his hand heavily on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "And now we should probably be going to meet up with the senator. As long as we're dismissed." He can almost keep the desperation of out his voice. If you don't know it's there. But Obi-Wan is afraid that if he doesn’t relent, Anakin will spill over.

He says, “Just know that I don’t care for this at all.”

“No one is asking you to care for it,” Master Windu says. “Here are the details.” Pressed into Obi-Wan’s palm. “You’ll head to Naboo separately from the ship, but you should arrive close to one another. Take care, both of you. And do not send _any_ communications from now until we pick you up. Complete radio silence--understood?”

The thought of not knowing what’s going on in the war makes Obi-Wan feel immediately insane.

He says, “You’d better catch them quickly.”

"Ten days," Anakin says distractedly. Then, without even a bow, he grabs Obi-Wan's arm and makes his way outside again. "I can't believe she didn't tell us!" he explodes almost immediately.

“Give her a chance to, maybe,” Obi-Wan says, taking back his arm even though he doesn’t entirely want to. “Anakin, be circumspect.”

"What?" Anakin demands. He looks at Obi-Wan, bright-eyed with fear. "Sorry, Master, sorry." Obi-Wan can see him stop and center himself. "Is there a problem?"

Obi-Wan isn’t sure what Anakin is asking, and this isn’t the place to find out. 

“There’s no problem,” he says, as reassuringly as he can. “Just--a reminder. Let’s just go find Padmé and get our ten days over with.”

Anakin nods. Then he finds their speeder and proceeds to break every traffic law ever created on the way to see Padmé.

 

ii.

Anakin barely lets Obi-Wan close the door behind them before he's kissing Padmé. When he finally stops, he looks at every visible inch of her for signs of injury, over her objections.

“Anakin!” she says, with a hiccup of a laugh. She looks past him, presumably at Obi-Wan. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”

Threepio wanders into the room, looks at the two of them, says, “Oh, dear! Excuse me,” and shuffles out again.

“Anakin,” Padmé prods.

"Master Windu told us someone tried to kill you," Anakin says, trying to quiet his heart. He can feel it pounding in his chest. "Why didn't you get a message to me? I would have come home." It feels both freeing and perverse that he can say these things in front of Obi-Wan now.

“Oh,” she says. “That. Yes. I’m all right, though. And there’s nothing you could have done from the outer rim. And anyway, we’ll all be safe now.” She sighs, squeezing his arm, but then her gaze flickers past him again and she steps back. 

Anakin comes back down to reality a bit more. "Obi-Wan's still recovering from my flying," he says, turning to include Obi-Wan in the conversation. "And he hates your plan. Don't you, Master?"

“No offense intended, Padmé,” Obi-Wan says with a quick smile that wrinkles the skin beside his eyes. 

“None taken,” she says. “I don’t like it either.”

"It won't be all bad," Anakin says. Now that he's actually thinking back through what Master Windu said, parts of it don't sound bad at all. "We’ll be in the most beautiful place in the Galaxy." The place where he and Padmé first talked about their feelings. The place where almost everything important in their relationship happened. He almost wishes it were just the two of them--but he wouldn't want to be away from Obi-Wan for too long. He doesn't know how to reconcile those two huge categories of feelings with each other.

“I suppose that’s true,” Padmé says. “Although I won’t even be able to contact my family.” She leans past him, _again_. “Obi-Wan, how was your mission?”

“Oh,” he says. “We too were nearly murdered more often than usual. But it was fine.”

"I saved him," Anakin says. "Of course." Truth be told, Anakin hadn't felt as quick on his feet as he often is. Maybe a few days of forced rest will be helpful. "Who'd want to kill us behind our backs?"

“Someone who isn’t capable of killing us to our faces,” Obi-Wan says. “Or someone who wouldn’t like to be caught failing. Senator--” It sounds strange and formal, with no one else here to hear them. “--are you packed?”

"I'm not going to carry all those dresses again," Anakin says. "Are we bringing Threepio? Maybe he'll do it." He can't decide if the idea of being stuck in a house with Padmé and Obi-Wan is wonderful or anxiety-provoking.

“I think Threepio can stay home,” Padmé says. “Artoo, though--do you want to bring him?”

Artoo is already here somewhere, knowing how to get home without Anakin to lead him.

“It might be nice to travel light,” Obi-Wan suggests.

Anakin doesn't like that. He feels naked without his droid. Then again, they want to eliminate all possible sources of tracking, and it's easier to track a droid than a human.

"Fine," he says. "But I'm bringing a transmitter, in case we need to contact someone in an emergency."

“Deal,” says Obi-Wan.

“I _am_ packed,” Padmé says. “We can go as soon as the ship’s ready for us.”

 

iii.

By all rights, Obi-Wan ought to be very happy. The day is bright and the suites are open and airy, and leave stretches out in front of him beautifully. However, of all the people in all the systems to ever be sent away from a battle front to enjoy a little discretionary nature, Obi-Wan is by temperament the least appreciative.

It makes sense. But he doesn’t like it. 

Obi-Wan is in his gorgeous rooms, with the light Naboo breeze teasing the gauze curtains, and he cannot stop pacing, and he is hungry, and he can’t shake the feeling that when Padmé and Anakin come and find him they’ll _plan_ something, and Obi-Wan will experience relief.

It's not long before they do find him. Anakin looks relaxed and happy, as he always does when he's spending time with Padmé, but there are still dark smudges under his eyes. He's still not sleeping, then.

"You look like you're worrying, Master," he says. "We're supposed to be here to cure you of that."

"Obi-Wan will never be cured of that," Padmé says, laughing. "He's too responsible." She, too, looks tired.

“I _am_ a general,” Obi-Wan says, a touch defensively. “I’m supposed to be responsible. And in the field.” He isn’t sure how being here won’t drive him mad. “There are a thousand crucial things taking place every second across the galaxy, and I ought to be attending to at least some of them,”

This little speech has been growing inside him all the way from Coruscant, as if they could touch down here and say it and they’d just nod complacently and put him back on his ship to go do useful things.

"Master," Anakin says with condescending patience. "You're not the only person holding this war together. There's at least Master Windu."

"And you can't fight a war if you're dead," Padmé adds, which is a marginally more reasonable argument. Now they're ganging up on him.

Obi-Wan says, “War isn’t supposed to be restful. And I’m well aware that Master Yoda thinks getting us out of the picture for a few days—” He hopes. “—is the wiser strategy. But the more I think about it, the more I think that if someone is going to assassinate us, they might well do it here, so I don’t see why we should have stopped fighting at all.”

"You don't think we're any safer here?" Padmé's smile flickers between incredulous and kind.

"Happier, anyway," Anakin says, watching Padmé.

“He certainly didn’t send us away for your amusement,” Obi-Wan says. Honestly, he expects Anakin to jump on any chance to be with Padmé and blind himself to the circumstances, but he expects her to be a little more critical. “But I suppose we are safer. Completely out of touch, but safer. Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll find out who’s behind it soon enough, and then we can get back to work.”

"He always talks himself out of these things soon enough," Anakin tells Padmé. "Anyway, he's just mad because _this_ time, he's actually involved. No running off to Kamino and having adventures today."

She puts her hand on his arm and gives him a quelling look. "It is serious, though," she says. "No one's saying it's not." She smiles at Obi-Wan, as if drawing him back into the conversation.

“Well, at least one of you is reasonable,” he says. “Is there anything to eat on this lovely planet? I haven’t eaten in what feels like days.”

"We usually had the servants do it," Padmé says, unselfconscious.

"There must be something better than what we eat when we're at war," Anakin says. "Master, I know you can cook." He gives Obi-Wan an encouraging smile, designed to charm. He still just looks exhausted.

It makes Obi-Wan forget his own travel weariness. He feels robust enough, just pinched in the gut. 

“Show me the kitchen,” he says with feigned resignation. He turns to Padmé. “For you as well?”

"I can help," she says. "Well, I can show you what to pick from the herb garden, at least."

Anakin shakes his head. Obi-Wan knows he's never really gotten a taste for anything green.

Obi-Wan says, “I love a good herb.” He crooks his elbow outward for Padmé to take, and says, “Please do show the way.”

Padmé leads him to the little herb garden behind the house. The air smells clean and the breeze is cool, but it does nothing to alleviate his anxiety.

"This will be good for Anakin, I think," Padmé says decisively. She always talks about Anakin in that carefree way, as though nothing could be wrong with how closely interwoven their lives are.

“You think so? Yes, I can see that he does need to take a moment. It’s not easy, as you know, to stop for a breath from the thick of things.” Obi-Wan looks around approvingly. “Do you know what’s in the kitchen to cook? I’ll need the right dressing.”

Padmé talks him through the contents of the kitchen. For someone who probably hasn't done a lot of her own cooking, she seems to have quite an interest in it. "Thank you for doing this," she says. "Anakin would never have come if it was just me."

Obi-Wan shoots her a surprised look. “Oh, you must know that isn’t true. Of course Anakin is extremely devoted to his duties, but he loves you...very much. Very much.”

Her cheeks color slightly. But only slightly. "Yes. But you know he doesn't like to feel that he's falling behind."

“No,” Obi-Wan says, laughing. “No, I think that’s his greatest fear.” Among one or two others--but he doesn’t think he’s overstating it.

"He just wants to prove himself," she says. It sounds defensive. Obi-Wan doesn't know what Anakin has been saying behind his back, but he knows that Anakin believes everyone is holding him back. Including Obi-Wan.

Arguing with Padmé about where Anakin is, just now--which is _far_ , which is _more than adequate_ , which is the perfect time to slow down and absorb a little experience--doesn’t hold a lot of appeal. Obi-Wan says, “I understand the desire very well. Don’t think I want any less for him than he does, Padmé.”

"I hope that's true," she says, never one to let anyone else get the last word. "But let's not worry about that. Let's cook something and see if we can get you both to relax."

“Not likely,” Obi-Wan says, relieved not to fight. “But I’ll do my best, if it will make you happy.”

Padmé laughs and lays her hand on his arm. "Well, I appreciate that."

She lets him gather the herbs he needs, helping where she can. By the time they go back inside, Anakin looks almost as wound up as Obi-Wan felt before. He gives them a bruised, tentative smile.

"I got out pots and things," he says.

“Then I shall have to put something in them,” Obi-Wan says, “which cuts down on how many decisions I have to make, which is wonderful, because they sound a lot more difficult to make than lunch.”

Anakin rolls his eyes and smiles. "Call for us when it's ready. I want to show Padmé something."

Obi-Wan waves it off, trying not to feel hurt. He does feel hurt, a little. And slightly annoyed. “I don’t need you in the kitchen anyway,” he says with wilful cheer. “You’re not good for much except standing where I need to be. Go on, I’ll find you.”

Anakin and Padmé disappear back out the front of the house. 

 

iv.

As soon as they’re out of hearing, Padmé says, “What do you want to show me? I don’t think it’s fair to leave Obi-Wan like that.”

"He'll be fine," Anakin says. "He's always fine. I just needed to be alone with you." He always says these things with a straight face, unembarrassed. 

Padmé lays a hand on his arm, with that slight moment of adjustment that always comes when she realizes it isn’t flesh and blood. It’s familiar, and it’s him, but for a split second her brain expects something else. 

“So you don’t have anything to show me,” she prompts.

"I'm sure I can come up with something," he says, and he takes her hand and brings it to his lips. His smile is playful, even though he still looks so tired.

“Anakin,” she says, smiling back. He’s really amazing. When she looks at him, her heart is peaceful and racing at the same time, all the time. She feels so safe in his love, and yet she can never settle down.

"I just want to carry you away," he says. He bends and scoops her into his arms, lifting her up to kiss her.

She lets him carry her away a little, then pulls back breathless without letting go. Her feet still don’t touch the floor, and it gives her a heady feeling. She thinks she ought to plead Obi-Wan’s case one more time, but she’s so lulled by the kiss that she doesn’t quite do it.

“Carry me? How far?” she says, looking straight into Anakin’s eyes.

Anakin holds her gaze. "All the way," he says. He walks down the hall and toward their bedroom, taking steady steps, as if she weighs nothing. It makes Padmé a little unsteady, but she tightens her grip around his shoulders and tips her feet back so they don’t touch the ground. As soon as the door shuts behind them, she reaches down with one foot to put herself back on the ground, and then kisses him, long and deep. Her rules.

Anakin's whole body relaxes. She can feel his stance shift, letting her take over. "I need you," he mutters into her mouth.

“Shh,” she murmurs back. “I’m here. We’re here, together.” It wasn’t where any of them would have chosen to be, just now, but someone has to keep their head on straight. She’s willing for it to be her. And no matter what is going on in the world, she can’t help being happy to be home, in the quiet, in the smells she grew up with, with no space between her and Anakin.

She runs her hand softly down his throat and kisses him on the mouth, quick, quick, quick. 

Anakin's eyes flutter shut and he reaches for her waist almost convulsively. His hands crush the fabric as he holds on to her.

Padmé feels so protective of him. He’s strong, and skilled, but so young, in some ways. And unguarded. Defensive, sometimes, but that’s not the same thing. Padmé has been guarded since she was a child, because that has been her job. She doesn’t entirely understand how Anakin survived his cruel childhood with all his feelings on display, but he did, and it makes her heart hurt.

She starts to undress him, loosening and tugging so softly that he doesn’t seem to notice until his chest is bare, and he shivers. She doesn’t think it’s from cold, so she doesn’t worry.

Anakin opens his eyes, and they're dark, his lids low. "You're so beautiful," he says, but she doesn't think that's what he means. He says a lot of romantic things when they're together like this, but he always just looks like he's hurting.

“My love,” she says gently, and disentangles his sleeves from his arms so that his robes and tunic fall to the floor. She puts a hand on his chest to guide him backwards into bed, kissing his jaw, featherlight.

The back of Anakin's legs hit the bed, and he falls backwards, finally breaking into a grin. "You just love pushing me around," he says.

Padmé, artfully twitching her skirts so that she doesn’t stumble over them, climbs up next to him with a matching smile. 

“You like me to,” she says, looking down at him. And besides, it’s nice to see him let go--he needs to be in charge, in control, so much of the time. She makes him relax. And that’s good.

Anakin nods, pleased, and grabs her hands. He still hasn't worked out how to get the pressure quite right with his mechanical fingers, so it pinches. "Come down here."

She doesn’t fret over the pinch, just laughs and leans her weight into his stomach and chest. She’s very aware of the cut of her dress, more so with every breath. Some of her hair breaks free and dangles in Anakin’s face.

“Now that I’m down here,” she says, “what are you going to do with me?”

Anakin's grin becomes determined. Without warning, the grabs Padmé around the waist and rolls them both over, toppling her into the bed and then blinking innocently down at her. "Hi," he says.

Padmé catches her breath, hands tangled above her head. She’ll die if he doesn’t take her clothes off soon. “Hi,” she says back.

"Hold on," Anakin says, "watch this." He makes a lazy pass in the air with hand, and her dress undoes itself and slips itself off her body without his touching it at all.

It happens so quickly that she has to catch her breath, like stepping into cold water. 

“I like it,” she says. “But I like your hands better.” She says _hands_ very firmly, because she knows he worries, and because thinking about either of his hands on her sends the same heat creeping through her.

Anakin makes a thoughtful noise and touches her, his hands cupping her hips, her breasts, her face. After a few minutes, both his hands are warm with the heat of her skin. Padmé is flushed, hands clasping the pillows behind her. She’s so sensitive by now that every touch makes her moan.

They shouldn’t take too long, she thinks, and is annoyed with herself for it.

“Anakin,” she says breathlessly. He’s crouched between her legs and she can see that he’s hard. “Do your trick again,” she says, writhing just enough that he knows she wants to be naked.

He smiles at her, eyes dark. He waves his hand again, this time more carefully, and her underclothes peel themselves from her body. She realizes as it's happening that she's hovering off the bed just an inch or so.

"I could do this without touching you at all," he says.

It’s the slightest bit terrifying, but she is dizzy with want and it sounds so good that she whimpers. Tentatively, she spreads her legs a little further. Then a little more, knees just barely bent. It holds her there. She thinks it would hold her in any position. She raises her arms above her head and lets herself sink into the feeling of his eyes raking up and down her body.

“What about you?” she says unevenly.

"I want to watch you," he says. "I can take care of myself." He makes a small motion and she feels sensation wash over her skin, ripples and pinpricks of feeling. It's not like being touched, quite.

Padmé shivers, eyes squeezing shut. She hears Anakin work himself out of his pants--even while he’s doing that, she remains caught in the air. She’s no Jedi, she doesn’t _know_ the limits, but to her, he’s wondrous. She wants his power to run over her and plunge into her. She gives a little sigh, heart pounding, stomach tight with anticipation.

When Anakin is naked, he kneels beside her, almost touching, but not quite. He does something complicated with his hands, and it doesn't quite replicate on her skin. Instead something deeper and more complicated happens, waves of touch-without-touch pouring through her. Anakin looks at her face and gives a bitten-off little groan before touching himself.

“ _Oh,”_ says Padmé. It’s getting at her in a way that nothing has before, both more and less satisfying. She strains against the air, desperate to be touched, but overwhelmed by what’s happening instead.

Anakin looks desperate as well, but he keeps moving his hand over his body. She can feel her muscles tightening, and she can't tell if it's her body doing it, or him. He moves his hand almost close enough to touch her hip.

Padmé makes a sound of frustration and want, tilting her knees back and spreading herself wide so that Anakin will please, please, _please_ \--she doesn’t care what he uses, she just wants him inside her, wants to be filled.

Anakin shifts and kneels between her legs. She thinks for a moment that he's going to touch her, but instead he waves his hand again, a different motion. She can feel something between her legs, pushing inside. It doesn't feel like any part of Anakin's body. If anything, it feels like a wave, warm and slick and insistent.

Her head tilts back and she groans, feeling the wave reverberate through her entire body. She lowers one hand to run it over her breasts, a feeling like electricity between her nipples and her fingertips. Maybe Anakin will stop her, but she has to touch herself, she has to, she will unless he ties her hands. The feeling that’s buried and moving inside her gives a twist, and she bites back a cry and rocks against it.

Anakin gasps and the feeling inside Padmé intensifies. He leans forward and between her legs and he thinks for a second he's going to put his mouth on her, but he doesn't, he just breathes out and a tiny shock of electricity jumps from his mouth to her body.

Padmé cries out, shuddering, and wonders what Anakin is seeing. Is this just a feeling, or is she being stretched wide? His eyes are on her. Is he staring into her? She’s never felt so fully bared. It doesn’t shame her, it makes her want _more_. It makes her want to find a way to show him inches of herself that don’t even exist. She whimpers in time to the inexorable ebb and flow inside her, which feels thicker and stronger with every turn.

Anakin's breath is harsh now, and she can tell he's close. His focus on her is still laser-like, though. He waves his hand and her legs push further apart, the waves of feeling coming harder and and harder.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Padmé is saying, like she’s surprised, but really the feeling is too intense for anything that reasonable. She’s too full, she’s too much, and then she’s screaming into the inside of her elbow, thrashing against the air.

She's vaguely aware that Anakin is crying out, too. When she catches her breath, she realizes that she's lying on the bed again. Anakin is kneeling over her, staring at her with wonder. "That was," he says. He shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

Padmé feels wet and thick and dizzy.

“Touch me,” she says. 

"Nn," Anakin says, and he reaches for her. He wraps himself all around her, even though they're both too warm. He nuzzles into her shoulder and against her neck.

She squeezes his torso with her thighs, running her hands all over his hair and back. The feeling of slick skin on slick skin makes her sigh with relief.

“I love you,” she says. “I love you so much.”

"I love you," he says, and his voice breaks.

She leans up to kiss his forehead. 

“Now,” she says. “Do you think Obi-Wan is ready for us?”

Her own phrasing makes her almost laugh. She never asks for specifics--she thinks Anakin knows what she knows, but she hasn’t even had a conversation with him about _that_ \--but whatever he feels, whatever they get up to, she can’t imagine Obi-Wan doing half of what she and Anakin do together. He’d blush himself to death.

All Anakin says is, "He'd better be."

v.

Obi-Wan doesn't entertain any thoughts of what they might be doing. It's not productive. They only reappear again when he's just finished cooking. Anakin has always had a preternatural sense of timing.

“Oh, good,” says Obi-Wan. “You can at least set the dishes out.” He’s so hungry by now that he feels the slightest bit woozy. How he would love for someone else to set the dishes out. “You’re supposed to help your Master, you know. It’s practically your entire job.”

Without answers, Anakin lazily waves a hand. The cupboards open and the dishes whisk their way from the kitchen to the dining area. He has the table set in less than a minute, perfectly. He gives Obi-Wan a challenging little bow.

“I don’t care how you do it,” Obi-Wan says drily. “But thank you for getting it done.” 

He serves--bread, which was here, and soup, which he’s made, which is warm and spicy and a little sweet. He sets the pot back on the stove, and then he sits down with a sigh and tucks in without waiting for anyone else. Honestly by now he’s too famished for manners.

"Obi-Wan, this is amazing," Padmé says. Her eyes glitter when she smiles at him.

Anakin's eyes are shut, as if he's thinking hard about the soup he just put in his mouth. He opens them when he swallows. "I like it," he says. "It has a little bite." Anakin has a lot of bite.

“Mm,” Obi-Wan agrees. “Suits you.” He turns to Padmé. Her taste is particular and, having failed to please Anakin often enough that he no longer worries about it, Obi-Wan is more concerned about satisfying her taste than her husband’s. “All right for you?” he asks.

"You didn't have to do all this," she says. "But I'm so glad you did."

He beams at her. Padmé is no pushover--to say the least--but when she’s warm, she’s warmer than practically anyone Obi-Wan knows. Her gratitude over one bowl of soup could fuel Obi-Wan for days. 

(If he was doing anything. Which he is not.)

Anakin spends the rest of the meal joking with Padmé and occasionally Obi-Wan until it's almost possible to forget that he's so tired. Padmé even helps tidy away the dishes afterwards.

“And here I’d expected Anakin to do it from a distance,” Obi-Wan remarks toothlessly. He smiles at Padmé, so she doesn’t think he’s angry at Anakin. He’s not angry at Anakin, and even less so now that his stomach is full and his head has stopped spinning. 

"I have to leave some work for somebody else," Anakin says, which is of course not how he feels at all. He never seems to want to stop, no matter what he's doing.

“Very kind,” says Obi-Wan. “You’ll really keep us in shape, at this rate. Now, would someone mind giving me a tour of the place? Ending, I hope, with a nice place to sit.”

"Padmé knows it best," Anakin says.

She shakes her head. "You go. I'm going to finish cleaning up."

Anakin sighs deeply and stands up with great effort. "Well, come on, Master. I'll show you everything Padmé showed me." It's jarring, remembering how much time Anakin has spent on Naboo with Padmé. Possibly more than Obi-Wan knows about.

“Make it thorough,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m sure she has.”

"Oh, she has," Anakin says. He never even tries to conceal the tension in his voice when he talks about Padmé. He has no shame, just as he has no regard for rules.

Obi-Wan sighs and follows him out of the room, pretending not to understand.

“Whose house is this, again?” he asks.

"Her cousins', I think," Anakin says. "She's about dozens of relatives and she's friends with all of them." There's just a hint of bitterness there, ill-concealed. Obi-Wan hesitates to apologize, since that usually prompts him to say any number of ugly things, most of them perhaps even merited. 

Obi-Wan should have made time for them to go back. He knows it. He was just young, and stupid, and now it is much too late. Apologies don’t work particularly well on wounds like that.

Instead of apologizing or agreeing or shutting down, Obi-Wan says, “She’s a wonder.”

"She is," Anakin says simply. He leads Obi-Wan through a dizzying series of open, sunny rooms. "And she wants to see you relax as much as I do.”

“Very thoughtful,” Obi-Wan says with a sigh. “Well, since we’re trapped here. I’ll be surprised if _you_ relax, though. Sitting still for five minutes for Anakin Skywalker is a punishment close to death.”

"I just know they need me, Master," Anakin says, wounded. "And I can do it. If we weren't being targeted, I wouldn't need a break. You're always saying I have too much energy."

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” says Obi-Wan cheerily. “Well, they’ll have to do without the three of us, and we’ll have to put our hearts towards not minding too much.” He thinks about the fact that Anakin has once again talked him around without trying, and gives an internal sigh.

Anakin nods with the ghost of a smile. "Yes, Master. You're quite right. We might as well enjoy ourselves."

“I’m going to find myself a nice chair in the sun and sit in it,” says Obi-Wan. “And practice clearing my mind.”

"I'll come find you when you need it cluttered again," Anakin says. 

It makes Obi-Wan’s heart stutter, but he thinks he hides that well enough. Maybe not enough to keep it from Anakin, curse his insights. His face is calm, though, as he says, “In a matter of minutes, then,” and waves to Anakin as he finds a door to escape through. 

 

vi.

When Anakin finds Padmé again, she’s sitting over a list. 

“I’m thinking of ways to keep busy,” she says, and laughs. “I don’t think this suits any of us.”

"I'm already losing my mind," Anakin says fretfully. "Obi-Wan is worse, though. And he doesn't have you."

“He has you, doesn’t he?” she says, in that unconcerned way where Anakin isn’t sure she understands all the implications of what she’s saying. Or does she? 

Does she?

"He does," Anakin says. "I owe him a lot. I have to look after him." A few years ago, he wouldn't have meant that as much as he means it now.

Padmé gazes up at him with an expression that’s half smile, half frown. “I’m glad you feel that way,” she says. “Not that I think he can’t look after himself, but everyone needs to be looked after sometimes. And--” She hesitates, a finger on her lips.

"And?" Anakin gets restless when Padmé spends too much time talking about Obi-Wan. He knows that's not at all fair, but it's an impulse he hasn't yet learned to crush in himself.

“I like you to be able to trust one another,” she says. “That’s all.”

"I trust him," Anakin says. As much as he trusts anyone. Except the Chancellor, who is an entirely different matter. "I don't know if he trusts me or not." He doesn't feel petulant about this anymore. It's just a fact of life. He puts his hand on Padmé's shoulder, unwilling to stop touching her for long, as long as they're alone together.

She leans into it. “How could he not?” she says. “He depends on you. And I think--” The same pause, but she finishes her thought this time. “--that you’re the only person he really loves.”

Anakin feels a little thrill go through him, like an electric shock. Does she know how much Obi-Wan means to him? Anakin squeezes her shoulder, realizes he's doing it with his mechanical hand, and stops. "It's hard to think about all that when we're constantly at war."

“Take a little time,” Padmé says. “You’re both very dear to me, and I like it when you’re being reasonable. Reasonable and happy. You know the Senate never is.”

"Politicians are scum," Anakin says, but more by reflex than anything else. Padmé isn't scum. The Chancellor isn't scum. "I want to do something nice for Obi-Wan. He's not relaxing."

“That’s good, it gives me something to put on my list,” Padmé says thoughtfully. “Like what?”

Anakin knows what he _wants_. His whole body is on fire. The idea that they're here to unwind hasn't caught up with him yet. "I'm not sure," he says slowly.

She looks him up and down and laughs. “You’re so antsy,” she says. “I’m going to explore the house more. You and Obi-Wan should take a walk until your legs feel like jelly. There’s plenty of beautiful things to see around here. Then we’ll all do something together, all right?”

Everything always seems so effortless for her. "I love you," Anakin says, and his voice sounds harsh in his ears. He bends and kisses her.

She stretches up to meet him, and he can feel that her mouth is in a smile even as she kisses him.

“Shoo,” she says.

vii.

Anakin approaches taking Obi-Wan for a walk as aggressively as if it's training. He strides through the tall grass and the naturally-formed lakeside paths with Obi-Wan in tow, almost not seeing how beautiful everything is around him. His head is buzzing from the lack of sleep. He tries to walk until he's out of breath, but it's hard to push himself that far without leaving Obi-Wan behind.

He'll do what Padmé said. He'll do something nice for Obi-Wan.

Behind him, slightly breathless and a little sarcastic, Obi-Wan says, “You know, I was perfectly happy having my nap. You needn’t force yourself through the entire countryside in one day.”

"Maybe this is how I enjoy myself," Anakin says, although at the moment he isn't, especially. He slows down at the edge of a patch of forest that runs along a piece of the lake. "Aren't we supposed to be blowing off steam?"

“I can’t help thinking you’re working yourself up instead,” Obi-Wan says. He marches up alongside Anakin and squints at him. He looks like he wants to say more, but Obi-Wan always keeps something back.

"I am," Anakin says. "I'm willing to sacrifice my own peace for a few more minutes to calm you down." And without warning he grabs Obi-Wan--whose reflexes are now significantly slower than his--and slams him up against a tree.

A part of him checks to see how Obi-Wan reacts first. If he’s defensive, then maybe he doesn’t trust Anakin as much as Padmé thinks he does. Anakin expects it, the way he flinches--

But Obi-Wan doesn’t throw his hands up or look panicked. He just says, “Oof!” and then, “Anakin, really, don’t you think there might be Gungans?” He hasn’t even started fighting it and Anakin feels him giving in.

Anakin grimances. "Really, Master." He grabs Obi-Wan's hand and gives it a tug. "Let's go into the forest, then." It's barely a forest, more like a patch of trees, but it will do.

A touch of something real in his eyes--nothing superior or evasive, but something hungry and anxious instead. Obi-Wan says, “Woods are so uncomfortable,” but he doesn’t mean that to stop anything from happening.

"It's fine," Anakin says. He gives Obi-Want an encouraging smile. "I'll be careful." Stupid thing to promise.

“Then come on,” Obi-Wan says. He _does_ trust Anakin. Too easily. It’s like Anakin doesn’t even need to earn it.

Anakin sometimes wonders what he could do to push the boundaries of Obi-Wan's dubious trust. But not today. Today he's doing something nice--or as nice as it can be, with the unspoken issue of Padmé between them. He leads Obi-Wan among the trees until they're a satisfactory distance from the lake. Then he grabs him by the upper arms and kisses him.

Obi-Wan rests his hands in the crooks of Anakin’s elbows and kisses back, eyes shut. Because that’s what he’s like, he lets Anakin be forceful, tilts his head back and takes it all in.

Anakin kisses him and walks him backwards until he's pressed against a tree again. He isn't thinking about anything right now, not Padmé, anything. Just putting one foot in front of the other and giving Obi-Wan everything he needs to give.

Obi-Wan moans and shifts under his hands, restless and clingy. Anakin _knows_ Obi-Wan wants this, but he’s not sure Obi-Wan has ever stopped wishing he _didn’t_ want it. What does he pretend to himself whenever they’re not right in the middle of having sex?

Anakin winds his fingers in Obi-Wan's hair and yanks, hard. It's not a punishment for Obi-Wan's lack of commitment to the truth, but it's connected. He kisses Obi-Wan's throat, using his teeth enough that it could bruise. Obi-Wan must know it, because he makes a high noise of protest, fingers pressing against Anakin’s neck. When Anakin leans his weight against him, he can feel that Obi-Wan is getting hard.

Anakin laughs into Obi-Wan's neck. He gets his hands inside Obi-Wan's robes, searching for skin. Obi-Wan smells dusty and pleasant as he always does.

He says, “Anakin,” without connecting it to anything, and tries to get through Anakin’s clothes with clumsy enthusiasm. He gets so worked up, so fast.

Anakin doesn't try to help Obi-Wan. He just undoes Obi-Wan's tunic and presses his fingers (burning, they already feel like they're burning) against Obi-Wan's ribcage. He likes to hear how Obi-Wan's heart beats when he's desperate.

Obi-Wan half swallows a noise, and then sort of lunges forward and back again, panting. He wants to kiss Anakin, Anakin thinks, but he’s afraid to ask. He gives up on Anakin’s clothes, his hands pressing in at Anakin’s collar to touch all the skin they can.

Anakin takes pity on him and leans in for a kiss. He has to make every move, every time, before Obi-Wan dares to. He tugs Obi-Wan's tunic off his shoulders and ducks his head to kiss those, too. Obi-Wan hisses when his skin scrapes against the tree bark, runs his hands into Anakin’s hair, and tightens his grip.

Anakin grabs the cord from his own tunic and pulls it free. "Stay still, Master," he says, and he knows Obi-Wan will. He takes Obi-Wan's hands firmly in his and ties them behind him, around the tree. Before Obi-Wan can panic and disappear, Anakin slides to his knees.

Obi-Wan is pressing himself back against the tree, breathing unevenly. 

“Anakin,” he says. It could be pleading or chastisement or affection, and it’s Obi-Wan, so probably it’s all of those things.

Anakin smiles up at Obi-Wan, then makes quick work of undoing his pants and tugging them down around his knees. It feels both brutal and caring, or at least he hopes Obi-Wan can see that he cares.

Obi-Wan makes a choked noise and tilts his head back so that he’s staring into the canopy of leaves. It would seem rude, except his knees are shaking. Anakin sometimes thinks he does it deliberately, so he doesn't have to look at what they're doing.

He sinks his nails into Obi-Wan's hips and puts his mouth on him without preamble.

Obi-Wan manages caught breaths and quiet noises, which is frustrating. And he keeps his head tilted back, which is frustrating as well.

Anakin tries every trick he knows. He does every little thing with his tongue that Obi-Wan is usually unable to keep from responding to. He uses his hands, constantly taking Obi-Wan by surprise at where he touches him next. He wants to demand a scream from him.

Obi-Wan _is_ shaking, and painfully hard, his breath rasping through his throat like it hurts. But he won’t _go_. He makes a noise like an apology, but of course he’s rarely, if ever,willing to acknowledge what they’re doing, and lately it’s worse than ever. Of course he won’t just _ask_ for anything..

Anakin bites Obi-Wan's hip and sucks hard enough to bruise. He presses his tongue against Obi-Wan's skin to make sure he can feel it. At the same time, he wraps his hand around Obi-Wan's cock and jerks it in a rhythm that's almost too rough.

“Please,” Obi-Wan gasps. There’s a sob in his voice. When Anakin takes too long with him, he really starts coming apart. “Something--anything--”

Anakin lets him, for a few more moments. Then he shifts and puts his mouth on Obi-Wan again, swallowing around him, hot and insistent. This will work. He wills it too, feeling the force all around him.

Obi-Wan’s struggling breath turns into whimpers. He struggles against his bonds without going anywhere, then starts openly begging, crying Anakin’s name.

Anakin fights a laugh and keeps going instead, feeling the power flow through him, up from the ground and into his body, then into Obi-Wan's, sparking and singing.

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan sobs. “Anakin!” His hips jerk and he comes with a scream that echoes through the trees and dissolves into messy, hitching breaths. Obi-Wan sags and shakes.

Anakin swallows and gets to his feet, less composed than he looks. He takes a moment to enjoy Obi-Wan slumped there before untying his hands. He knows that in a moment, Obi-Wan would probably have done it himself. He wants to maintain the illusion.

"I knew I could make you scream," he says.

Obi-Wan, unsteady, hurries to put all his clothes back in order. He’s pink under his beard, and his eyes will only catch Anakin’s for a half second at a time. 

“Let’s hope we’re really as isolated as we’re meant to be,” he says, with a briskness that doesn’t cover anything up.

"I'm sure we are, Master," Anakin says patiently. Maybe they are, maybe they're not. He doesn't really care.

Obi-Wan sighs. He has the slightly glassy, wavering look he always gets when Anakin fucks him. Maybe when anyone fucks him, but Anakin isn't sure there _is_ anyone else.

"We can go back," he says. "I'm all right." He's still stuck on untangling the feeling of the force flowing through him. He's never used it quite like that before.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, and then looks over and frowns at him solicitously. “Yes?”

"What?" Anakin asks. "I said let's go."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “All right,” he says. “Back to the house?”

"Padmé told us to walk until we're tired," Anakin says. He eyes Obi-Wan. "You do look tired." He brings up Padmé on purpose sometimes, when they've just slept together. He likes to test the boundaries and see what happens.

“Yes, of course,” Obi-Wan says. “If Padmé insists.” He sounds distracted and a little unprepared.

Anakin half hopes Obi-Wan won't be able to hold it together when they get back to the house. He starts back in that direction, knowing Obi-Wan will follow him.

Obi-Wan, trampling down leaves and branches behind him, says, “ _Did_ you walk until you’re tired?”

"No," Anakin says, "we walked until you were tired. Those things don't usually correspond."

Obi-Wan mutters something about respect.

Anakin ignores him. "Later," he says. "Later you can make this up to me."

He hears Obi-Wan stop for a moment, in the path behind him. When he starts walking again, he says, “Very well.”

viii.

It’s night, and late, when Padmé gets up from bed for a cup of water. She reassures Anakin and navigates the house in the dark. She’s most of the way to the kitchen when light catches her eye, and she finds Obi-Wan pacing with one dim light on in one of the airy porch-parlors. 

"You couldn't sleep either," she says softly, so as not to startle him, although with his reflexes, she never does.

“I’m afraid not,” Obi-Wan says, turning to her with a wry smile. He’s a very capable person, but she doesn’t think she’s ever had a conversation with him that doesn’t dip into self-deprecation. “I was rather hoping it was only me, but I won’t complain. Nice to see a familiar face after a few hours of fussing alone.”

"Anything I can help with?" she asks. She always offers and he never takes her up on it. She isn't sure why. She used to take it personally. Now she thinks it's just the way he is.

“If you could please work out how someone is targeting us so effectively, so we can get back to our duties without endangering anyone?” Obi-Wan shakes his head. “As I recall the last time this happened to you, you wound up charging across the galaxy to rescue me. Strictly against everyone’s intentions. I’m truly surprised you haven’t already found an excuse to break your confinement this time. And if you plan to, I wish you’d tell me. I’d be going with you.”

The way Obi-Wan's worry and annoyance masquerade as each other took Padmé years to unravel. "He won't," Padmé says. "He's too worried about me. And I won't. No matter how frustrated I get."

“It’s dreadful,” Obi-Wan says. “But this rambling of mine won’t help you sleep.” He gives her a small smile, eyes gentle. “Can I do anything for you, Padmé?”

"I don't need help," she says, but kindly. "Do you?"

“I don’t need help,” he says. “I don’t mind company.”

"Let's go for a walk," she says. "If you didn't exhaust yourself earlier." It's rare to catch him alone, and she enjoys it.

Obi-Wan seems lost for words for just a moment. He catches himself and says, “Yes—yes. That would be lovely.”

Padmé wishes there was a way to tell him, without embarrassing or upsetting him, that she has a very good idea of what he was doing earlier. She doesn't need the Force to solve mysteries, and this was never much of one. She leads him outside to the moonlit deck.

"I'm glad you're here," she says. "You're a calming presence. For both of us."

He puts his hand on hers and squeezes briefly.

“I can’t imagine better company,” he says. “Tell me something.”

"I want to tell you what it's like here when the galaxy isn't at war," she says.

She sees the set of his shoulders change, even though his voice is the same when he answers. 

“I would like that,” he says. “Shall we walk?” The porch wraps all the way around the house, which is quite large, and is gently illuminated.

Padmé takes his arm and leads him along the porch, slowly. She tells him what the countryside in Naboo was like when she was a child. She tells him all the things she did and all the people she knew. She points out flowers whose names she learned when she was six. Unlike Anakin, he seems to be listening.

He asks her questions and nods at the answers, and teases the answers into stories. They circle the house three times. He doesn’t tell her anything about himself.

Eventually Padmé stops at the front of the house, a little flushed from walking and talking. "Next time," she says. "Next time it's your turn. Do you think you can sleep now?" She feels more sleepless than ever.

“I think so,” Obi-Wan says, smiling at her again. 

Padmé hugs him quickly and sends him on his way. Talking to him is always oddly stimulating in a way Anakin isn't. He feels both safe and exciting.

When she gets back to bed, she lies awake for a long time.

 

ix.

Anakin is in a foul mood in the morning. He was awake most of the night, waiting for Padmé to come back, and worrying. He knows there isn't usually anything dangerous out here, but they could have been followed. His mood improves, however, when he realizes she was up talking to Obi-Wan. That may be frustrating, but at least it's safe. He cuts his fruit and listens to her chat with him about last night as if it's nothing.

Obi-Wan seems to be in a wonderful mood, which doesn’t answer Anakin’s questions about what exactly happened last night.

He looks brightly at Anakin and says, “Do you remember the time we were almost strangled by serpents?” 

"You _were_ strangled," Anakin says, parrying carelessly. 

“Only a little, and you were right there with me,” says Obi-Wan jovially. He peels his fruit and eats the inside first, the skin last. It’s slightly gruesome and he does it without thinking. 

Anakin can't stop watching him. He can't stop watching both of them. Surely if something had happened, one of them would do something to reveal it.

"Anakin, drink your juice," Padmé says. It's almost insulting how they're asking him to ignore the situation. And it would be so much easier if there was a situation.

Obi-Wan says, “Anakin, we’ll train today.”

Maybe if he gets Obi-Wan alone, he'll learn something. "Of course, Master. Did Padmé show you the beach last night?"

“We didn’t get nearly so far,” says Obi-Wan. Infuriating.

"Well, she’s showed me the beach," Anakin says stubbornly. He spears a piece of fruit and offers it to Obi-Wan.

He smiles and plucks it off the fork to pop it into his mouth. Obi-Wan is stupidly attractive. Much more so because he's so clueless.

"I'm looking forward to training," Anakin says, meeting Obi-Wan's eyes.

“Good,” Obi-Wan says. “We certainly need to keep busy somehow.”

“I’ll be exploring the grounds for projects,” Padmé says. “If you want to use the house—the courtyard—I won’t be in the way.” She smiles at Obi-Wan and Anakin in turn.

Anakin feels like he's losing his mind. "Generous," he mutters.

Padmé leans over and gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek. “My beautiful boy,” she says. “I’d give you anything in my power, you know that.”

Anakin catches his breath. He always feels a few steps behind her. She's the only being in the galaxy for whom that's true. "Anything, huh?"

“In my power,” she says again, smiling slightly.

"I'll see you after we train," Anakin says, still breathless.

Her smile broadens. “My love,” she says, her hand on his shoulder. Then she stands up and says over her shoulder, “Leave the food out—I know I’ll be hungry when I come back.”

“Contact us if you run into any trouble,” cautions Obi-Wan. “And keep your eyes open, please.”

Padmé laughs and leaves.

Anakin inhales, exhales. "Well," he says.

“Meditation to start and end with,” Obi-Wan says, with all the appearance of someone who actually intends to work.

Anakin tries to settle and meditate, but he can't. He's never any good at it, but today he's worse. He just wants to take all the people he loves and put them in the same room so he can look after them.

Obi-Wan shows him mercy, eventually, and says, “What’s troubling you, Anakin?”

Anakin looks at him. "I'm tired," he tries. At least, he isn't sleeping.

Obi-Wan says, “You’ve looked it.”

"Last night was better," he says.

“Maybe this ‘vacation’ is a good idea after all,” Obi-Wan says. “But—tell me what’s troubling you.”

Anakin weighs his words. He's not troubled, exactly. Just tired and hopeful. "What did you and Padmé talk about?"

“Naboo,” says Obi-Wan. “Naboo before the war. It’s good to be reminded that times like that can exist. And she tells it very well, don’t you think?”

Anakin has heard Padmé's Naboo stories a dozen times now. "She does," he says. "I think she tells it when she's trying to impress someone."

“Ah,” says Obi-Wan. “I doubt--well, that’s nice.”

Anakin can see Obi-Wan panic a little, the way he always does when something might be about him. It's infuriating. "Who wouldn't want to impress you?" he says. Anakin only spends half his life doing it.

Obi-Wan laughs it off and says, “Well. I liked the stories, let’s just leave it at that.” His beard hides his face, but Anakin can still see the tip of his nose turn pink.

Good. That's satisfying enough to continue with. "Are we done meditating?" he asks. He feels hungry to move, to do something.

Obi-Wan frowns, and says, “If you’re in such a hurry to get out of it, then it’s probably not going to do you any good anyway. We can return to it later.”

"Fine," Anakin says. "I just want to blow off steam." He can't tell if he's still wound up from yesterday, or if this is just how he feels all the time now.

Obi-Wan regards him stoically, but Anakin can read the concern in his eyes. Like he’s weighing responses. Like something about Anakin makes it difficult to respond.

"Come on, Obi-Wan, teach me something new," he says, and he can't help letting a hint of mocking slip into his voice.

“I hope that I can,” says Obi-Wan. He gets up. “Come on, to the courtyard. An hour or two of drills never hurt anyone.”

Anakin is willing enough to do that. He's distracted, though. The whole time he's supposed to be focused on being mindful, he keeps coming back to Padmé leaving them at the house, Padmé and Obi-Wan telling stories together, yesterday in the forest with Obi-Wan. He can't make himself be present. Or worse, he's too present. He keeps watching the way Obi-Wan's jaw moves when he's frustrated.

Finally, Obi-Wan says, a little short of breath but still smooth, “Enough. Spar.” 

Anakin takes it as a challenge. He immediately feels more alert, awake. "Lightsabers?" he asks.

“Just so,” says Obi-Wan, getting to his feet. 

Anakin calls his lightsaber to his hand and drops into a fighting stance. He turns it on first, already imagining Obi-Wan chastising him for it. He just wants to force Obi-Wan to stop being so aloof. Before Obi-Wan can even ignite his lightsaber, Anakin swings for him.

Obi-Wan shouts and stumbles back and parries all at the same time. He gets his feet under him and his guard up. 

"Faster than I expected, Master," Anakin says. "You should be on your guard." He stalks in a slow circle around Obi-Wan. All he wants is to tackle him to the ground.

Obi-Wan jabs at him, fast, but not as fast as Anakin is. That’s the problem with sparring these days--Anakin is always better.

Anakin can feel, almost again his will, his fingertips starting to tingle. It's something that happens a lot now, since he learned this trick Obi-Wan didn't teach him. He wonders how Obi-Wan would respond if Anakin just gave him a little shock from the tip of his finger.

He backs Obi-Wan into one corner of the courtyard, and Obi-Wan rolls away. They’ve been fighting for several minutes, and Obi-Wan is beginning to look like he’s losing. Well--he looks like he knows he’s in a sparring match with his former apprentice, and so he doesn’t look afraid. But he still looks like he’s losing.

Anakin takes a risk and starts to get showy, adding unnecessary backflips instead of just bearing down on Obi-Wan until he's beaten. Finally, though, even that can't delay the inevitable. When he has Obi-Wan truly cornered, Anakin switches his lightsaber off and tosses it high in the air. Before he comes down, he shoots a tiny jet of lightning from the tip of his finger.

Obi-Wan blocks it on instinct, and then takes a step back. His shoulders hit the wall. He stares at Anakin.

Anakin catches his lightsaber, flicks it on, and levels it at Obi-Wan. "I win," he says.

“It’s not meant to be about winning,” Obi-Wan says, like something mesmerized.

"All right, Obi-Wan," Anakin says, trying to be patient. His whole body is humming with energy. "What lesson am I meant to be learning?"

“Control,” Obi-Wan says. “Over yourself.” He switches his lightsaber off and regards Anakin over the glow of his own. 

Anakin always, always fails those tests. Even in the trials, it was close. "I have control," he says sharply. "I don't know what I did wrong.'

“There’s no enemy in sparring,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m not your opponent. Beating me isn’t the point. Doing better than yourself--controlling your feelings--that’s the point. Put that away, please.”

Anakin puts it away, feeling like he's been punched. Nothing hurts more than Obi-Wan's disappointment, and now that he's not so young, he occasionally even believes Obi-Wan is right. "I was over-zealous," he says, keeping the sullenness out of his voice. "I thought you'd be impressed." Obi-Wan hasn't even commented on his trick.

“I see you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says. “Don’t worry about me.” He gives Anakin an odd little smile.

"Do you?" Anakin asks. And because he can't stand anything else, he grabs the front of Obi-Wan's tunic and pulls him into a kiss.

He hears Obi-Wan make a small sound, murmur something like, “We’re working,” into his mouth. Obi-Wan’s hands scrabble against Anakin’s stomach. 

Anakin quickly backs Obi-Wan up against a half-wall, kissing him the whole time. He feels like he's about to explode in a shower of sparks.

“No,” says Obi-Wan, but it’s a begging word. Obi-Wan always wants him, no matter what he says. 

Anakin bites Obi-Wan's lip and pushes his body against Obi-Wan's, hips against Obi-Wan's hips. "Obi-Wan," he says.

“You’re avoiding--” Obi-Wan says, struggling. “You can’t do this every time you don’t want to _listen_.”

Anakin thinks he can, but he pauses in kissing Obi-Wan long enough to at least pretend he's listening. He rests his hand on Obi-Wan's chest so he can feel Obi-Wan's heartbeat in his palm. "Go on."

“Your pride will hurt you,” Obi-Wan says. “Or someone else. No one doubts your abilities, Anakin, they only want you to--to take care.”

"I do," Anakin says. "I do, but my limits are--I don't know if I've even begun to discover them. How can anyone guide me?" He didn't want to have this fight here (or to have it again at all), so he keeps his hands on Obi-Wan, hoping to anchor them both in the moment.

Obi-Wan says, “I may not be able to match you, but I can still teach you.”

Anakin is sure he is hurt, but he doesn’t show it.

Anakin hangs his head, resting his forehead against Obi-Wan's. "I'm sorry, Master," he mutters. He's torn between wanting to shove Obi-Wan against the wall and wanting to be held by him.

Obi-Wan touches him gently, laying his hands on either side of Anakin’s face.

“Didn’t I say we’d end with meditation?” he says. “Come sit with me.”

Anakin feels a great wave of relief go through him, and he can't even identify why, not with words. He follows Obi-Wan and sits down silently in front of him.

Obi-Wan leads, and doesn’t let Anakin go until he’s drugged by the patterns of breathing and repetition, drugged and still. 

Then Obi-Wan stretches his shoulders and smiles at Anakin.

Anakin blinks at him slowly. "Master." His mouth feels heavy.

“Anakin,” says Obi-Wan, and it sounds less like a reply than an invitation to something lush, and good.

Anakin shudders and closes his eyes. He feels as if he's slipping into deep water, all of the sparks inside him quieting and subsiding.

Obi-Wan doesn’t reassure him or compliment him or chastise him, either. He stands with him in silence for a long minute, hand heavy on the nape of Anakin’s neck. Then he sort of pats him, and straightens up, and says, “That’s enough for now. Take yourself for a walk until you get tired.” When Anakin looks, there’s a spark of wickedness in Obi-Wan’s eye.

Anakin, too pleased with Obi-Wan showing a little spirit to say anything, just bows his head and retreats toward the water.

x.

Obi-Wan manages not to show it until Anakin is gone, but training exhausts him. It’s not the physical effort, although what he said to Anakin about being unable to best him is true. It’s the adrenaline, every time he thinks that he and Anakin are on the same course and Anakin veers wildly away.

Obi-Wan isn’t stupid enough to think, in a war, in his calling, that he can keep Anakin _safe_ , but sometimes he’s afraid that he can’t keep Anakin _well._ He feels as if he’s failing Anakin, and Qui-Gon. He’s come at it from every way, what he believes is the good of the world, what he believes is the best way to live in it. And Anakin sometimes just does not fit. What has Obi-Wan done wrong?

He wanders into one of the parlors and sags into a chair, forgetting that anyone else might be nearby.

Padmé, stepping so lightly that he almost doesn't hear her, comes in. "I thought I heard you," she says. "I came in to--Are you all right?"

Obi-Wan sits up, too quickly to be graceful. “Oh, Senator,” he says, and immediately curses himself for being transparent. Using her title, in a situation like this. She won’t buy him for a moment.

Padmé laughs and comes to sit next to him. "Now I know you're not all right. Did Anakin say something?" She gives him an opaque look. He still can't figure out half of the ways she and Anakin interact.

He says, “Oh, no--nothing to--I just don’t always feel I can reach him where he is. I suppose it’s wrong of me to want to drag him back down with us mortals, but want it I do.”

Padmé nods. "I understand. I don't feel that way about him, but I know you do. He used to think it was jealousy. I think he knows better now. He can usually believe that you care about him."

Tireder and tireder. “I do,” he says. He leans forward on his elbows and laces his fingers together. Wonderful, to be a disappointment to them both. Perhaps he could go drown himself amongst the Gungans. If they hadn’t seen that little episode with Anakin before.

Padmé puts her hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Whatever you're thinking," she says, "it's all right. Anakin's taken care of. I share that responsibility. You can rest a little."

“No doubt,” Obi-Wan says. _He can usually believe._ Padmé isn’t cruel, but it still hurts. What other person _has_ Obi-Wan cared about in the past decade? His first loyalty is to the order, of course, to the order and to the Republic, but all the rest of his loyalty goes straight to Anakin. Not really anybody else, although he has friends and mentors and colleagues that do matter to him. It’s all Anakin, to the point that it shouldn’t be. _He can usually believe._ Obi-Wan feels rotten.

Padmé sits next to him in silence for a while. Then she says, "He's lost a lot. It's not you."

“I suppose I shouldn’t take it personally,” he says. He supposes he shouldn’t say this to Padmé, either, because Anakin is her husband and she has no reason to keep Obi-Wan’s words secret. He always finds himself trusting her, though, letting things slip that he wouldn’t say to anyone else. He hopes it’s just the power of her personality rather than a crush, which isn’t to his usual tastes or to anybody’s betterment.

"But Anakin is personal to you," she says. The way she looks at a person sees them too deeply. It makes Obi-Wan feel like a Temple youngling whose clothes don’t fit right.

“Good point,” Obi-Wan says. “Tell me what you’ve been up to all this while?”

"I found a shed that needs work," she says. "We could rebuild it and paint it while we're here. I think we have time. I don't know, I keep fretting about what the Senate is doing without me." She gives him a little smile. "I'm just as bad as you."

“One of many admirable qualities,” Obi-Wan says. “I keep thinking it might be nice just to--quickly send a message to Master Yoda. Just to check in. But somehow, I don’t think that he would appreciate that.”

"Well, I can tell you that Anakin has communicated with the Chancellor," Padmé says. She looks very composed, but Obi-Wan can feel her unease.

“What?” says Obi-Wan. The terrible feeling that had come on him during training presses down harder, like a foot on Obi-Wan’s back. “It could be his communications with the Chancellor that have landed us here to begin with!”

"I--know," Padmé says. "I don't think it was, though. I don't think he means any harm. I think he's just anxious." Obi-Wan can't tell if the stream of excuses is meant to comfort him, or her.

“That hardly matters,” Obi-Wan says. He doesn’t want to have a fight with Anakin, but he absolutely will. “He’s not stupid, he has to understand why we’re meant to be discreet!”

"He understands," Padmé says. "It's just that the Chancellor always knows the right thing to say. Believe me, I know how he feels. That's how I felt about the Chancellor, when I was younger." She doesn’t share how she feels about the Chancellor now.

“Not to sound entirely heartless, Padmé, but I don’t care how he feels,” Obi-Wan says, getting to his feet. “We’ll have to leave Naboo. And gag Anakin.”

He thinks for a minute that she's going to argue. Instead, she just looks sad. "I know." What if they'd never had this conversation? Would she have kept this to herself, to protect Anakin?

He may be willing to fight Anakin, but he’s not quite willing to fight her. “Excuse me,” he says, and leaves, at top speed, to find out what havoc Anakin has been wreaking.

 

xi.

When Obi-Wan finds Anakin, he's walking along the shoreline, right in the water. He looks, at a distance, peaceful. It's infuriating.

Obi-Wan takes his boots off, even knowing it will look strangely carefree alongside his temper, and strides across the wet sand with loud footsteps. It doesn’t matter. Anakin will know he’s coming whether or not he makes noise.

Anakin turns, and he's smiling. "Master," he says. "You decided to join me?"

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and then has to balance himself, caught between frustration and fear of ruining the expression on Anakin’s face. “Anakin,” he says again, “did you really call the Chancellor?”

Anakin's expression instantly clouds. "Who said that?" he asks. "Never mind. Yes, I did. He asked me to, before we left. Aren't we supposed to do what he asks?"

“We’re supposed to do what the _council_ asks,” Obi-Wan says. “And it doesn’t matter how much you trust him, your communications are one of the likeliest sources of our troubles to begin with! This is a _safe house_ , Anakin, and we’re supposed to keep ourselves under the radar, not blast messages across the galaxy for anyone to see!”

"It's not just for anyone!" Anakin snaps. "They're encrypted--I'm not stupid!" He glares down at the water he's standing in as if it's to blame.

“Encryption can be broken,” Obi-Wan says shortly. “And you don’t need to know what a message says to gain something from knowing where it’s been and where it ends up. Anakin, please.”

"What are you so afraid of, Obi-Wan?" Anakin demands. The sky above them looks darker, and although Obi-Wan knows it's nothing to do with Anakin, it feels related. "You know, I think you're jealous."

It pricks worse because Padmé’s just said it, that Anakin thinks that’s all Obi-Wan is.

“I’m not, but it wouldn’t matter if I was,” says Obi-Wan between his teeth. “You’d still be doing something idiotic.”

The water around Anakin begins a slow, seething roll, rippling away from his body. "You have to keep all of my time to yourself," Anakin says. "You have to know every little thing I'm doing so you can tell me no."

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. “Discipline, Anakin,” he says. “It’s not about punishing you. It’s never about punishing you. I’m sorry you don’t see that, but there’s more at stake than your sense of freedom!”

"Yes," Anakin says, failing at keeping his voice even. "There's your sense of control. Well, you can't control me. You never could." And he leaps for Obi-Wan, tackling him to the ground.

Obi-Wan is winded, his head knocking against the hard sand and leaving him dizzy. He doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Stop!” he says, arms up in front of his face. “Anakin--!” 

He thinks for a second that Anakin is going to hit him, but he he doesn't. 

Instead, he reaches out one hand and pins Obi-Wan to the sand with a great wave of the Force. "Can you control me now?" he asks, looking down at Obi-Wan. "You're the only one who keeps trying."

Obi-Wan makes a choked sound, filling the space of his own disbelief. The tide must be rising, because water swells up and slaps the side of Obi-Wan’s face. He spits and flinches back, but Anakin is holding him down and he can’t get free. 

“It’s not jealousy,” he says. “It isn’t. Not of--not of anyone. Anakin, stop!”

"You're jealous that Padmé gets more of me than you," Anakin spits. "You're jealous that _Palpatine_ gets more. You don't want anyone else getting a piece of what's yours. But I don't belong to anyone." He jerks his hand away on the weight on Obi-Wan is lifted, but Anakin swings his hand back around an arc of freezing water slaps Obi-Wan across the face.

Obi-Wan swallows water and coughs, but he scrambles to his feet. “Anakin,” he says, struggling to get his breath back. “I don’t want to own you. I would never do that to you. I didn’t tell anyone when I found out you were married, did I? Where is this coming from?” He’s used to Anakin’s temper, but this is worse. This is more. It’s like Obi-Wan is someone else to Anakin, someone Obi-Wan himself doesn’t recognize.

"I know why you try to hard so hard with me," Anakin says, his voice low and dangerous. "The only reason. Because you _promised._ "

It hits harder than being knocked down. He doesn’t know if Anakin is being cruel, or if he really believes it. Either way, Anakin’s words cut straight through skin and find Obi-Wan’s heart.

“You cannot believe that all of this has been for Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan says. “It doesn’t matter what I promised. I care about _you!”_

"Not like Padmé and--not like Padmé does," Anakin fumes. "You're barely a Jedi, you're so _selfish_. Or maybe all Jedi are like that."

Obi-Wan is shaken. He thinks of Padmé, whether she might be watching from the house, and he wonders with ice in his gut what this looks like from there. 

He wants to explain that there’s a difference between caring and giving someone everything they want. He wants to explain that the Chancellor is taking every lesson Anakin has ever struggled with and throwing it on the fire of Anakin’s vanity. Obi-Wan only wants to give Anakin what he needs. It doesn’t matter anymore if he promised.

“What do you think I care about, then?” he says, voice uneven. He’s so cold. The clouds above them are so dark. “If it’s not the Jedi? If it isn’t you?”

Anakin looks lost. No one has coached him in this answer, Obi-Wan thinks, perhaps unfairly. "Your principles," he says finally.

“Yes, of course my principles,” Obi-Wan shouts at him. “Because they are how I _live,love you._ ” 

"You don't love me!" Anakin screams, dragging up a great wave of water and sand with each hand.

“If you feel that way now then nothing I say is going to make you believe it!” Obi-Wan shouts. He’s dizzy with anger and fear and this vast, overwhelming sense that he’s missed something important and it’s all coming too late. “Just tell me, why is he so easy to trust, when you can’t trust me?”

"He--I--" Anakin is crying with rage, and the heaps of sand and water shudder. "You don't want me to feel anything!"

Obi-Wan doesn’t mind battle or near death or discipline, but this is making his heart break.

“I want you to be well,” he says, hands outstretched. “I don’t want you to feel nothing. I want you to be stronger than your pain.”

Anakin lifts his hands, and for a moment Obi-Wan thinks he's going to hurl the sand at him. Instead, Anakin opens his hands, and the sand smashes back down, to be washed away by the waves. "Obi-Wan," he says.

Obi-Wan can see him shaking. He takes a breath, and then a risk, and pulls Anakin into his arms. His cold fingers tangle in Anakin’s hair. He feels sand.

Anakin wipes furiously at his eyes, but then he gives up and presses himself against Obi-Wan, trying to get warm. He tilts his head and kisses Obi-Wan on the mouth, freezing fingers gripping Obi-Wan's tunic. Obi-Wan lets his emotions pass through him, and turns the kiss gentle. He doesn’t stop until he can feel Anakin relax, just slightly, in his grip.

“The rain is getting worse,” he says. “I always thought Naboo had nice weather.” He tries not to be defensively flippant. He tries to leave room, if Anakin has things to say. Obi-Wan needs to get to the bottom of this, one way or another.

But Anakin just says, "I'm sorry. I let my feelings get the best of me." He's shutting Obi-Wan out, but it's still such a relief after all the rage and hurt before.

Obi-Wan lets him go. “Padmé will be worried,” he says. The rain picks up into something more drenching. “We should go inside.”

"Mm," Anakin says. Even this close, he's barely visible in the rain. He grabs Obi-Wan's hand and tows him toward the house. Obi-Wan scoops up his boots on their way past.

 _Palpatine,_ Obi-Wan thinks. He isn’t jealous, not exactly, but he doesn’t like Palpatine personally, and as Anakin’s friend, he distrusts him intensely. 

“I know you won’t like this,” he says, “but you’d better stop making communiques of any kind until I can work out whether we’re still safe here.”

"I understand," Anakin says, which isn't quite the same as agreeing.

“Hmm,” says Obi-Wan, and then, “Oof!” as the rain turns to buckets and they’re both instantly drenched, halfway to the house.

xii.

Padmé watches them kiss. She watches them fight, first, and between the two things, that’s what shakes her more. It’s true that this is the first proof she’s ever had that they’re involved--Anakin has never breathed a word, and her feelings about that are complicated--but she’s known, always, that it might be true. If Anakin’s neediness didn’t tell her, the way Obi-Wan holds himself back would.

The fighting is what shakes her. That’s what makes her decide.

She waits for them in the door, watching them sprint through the rain, Obi-Wan with his boots in one hand. He doesn’t see her until they’re at the porch, and when he does, his expression slips into something like horror.

Anakin's face is oddly shuttered. He looks at Padmé for a moment as if he's not seeing her. Then he says, gesturing back into the storm, "We got caught."

“Yes,” she says, “you did.”

“Padmé,” Obi-Wan says. He’s pale. Does he think she’s jealous, or that she’ll tell?

“Come out of the weather,” she says. “You both look terrible.” 

Anakin wrings out water from his sleeves onto the floor. The joints of his metal hand creaking slightly. "Cold," he says. He meets Padmé's eyes, and his are glassy. She still can't tell what he's thinking or feeling.

She doesn’t like that, doesn’t like to think of Obi-Wan struggling in the sand. What was Anakin _thinking_? _Cold_ is what she feels. 

“Anakin,” she says. “Look at me?” Obi-Wan looks anxiously between the two of them, but Padmé puts that on hold, keeping her gaze steady on Anakin.

"I am," he says with a flicker of irritation. She recognizes it as fear.

She puts a hand to his chilled face and says, very gently, “I saw all of that.” Obi-Wan makes a noise.

Anakin sucks in air through his teeth. "I--You must be very angry."

“About what? The kiss?” she asks.

“Padmé,” says Obi-Wan. “I’m sorry. I’m--I’m so sorry.”

She grabs his hands in hers. “I’m not angry at you. Are you all right?”

Somehow, saying that seems to make things worse. And _that_ makes her angry. Like Anakin’s irritation, her anger is papering over fear.

"He's all right," Anakin says, but now his voice is so brittle he barely sounds like himself. "Padmé--I'm sorry." She thinks she's apologizing for the right thing.

Padmé turns to Obi-Wan.

“Of course I’m all right,” says Obi-Wan. They both look cold and miserable, and she realizes that this isn’t the way to have either of these conversations. 

“We don’t have to do the hard parts now,” she says. “Hot bath first. Come on.” She takes one of each of their hands, with a light touch. When they don’t immediately follow her, she adds, “I’m angry about the fighting. I already knew about everything else. Come get warm.”

Anakin huffs out a breath that's not quite a word. She can feel him exchanging looks with Obi-Wan. Then they both give in and follow her. By the time they reach the bathroom, Anakin's numb fingers are warming in her hand.

It’s a classic style communal bath. They’re still common on Naboo, although she’s not sure _what_ they have in the Jedi temple, so she doesn’t know what Obi-Wan will think. She’s certainly never communed with Anakin here, with anyone more than themselves. 

The thought makes her skin tingle. Despite her anger and worry, she feels like she’s on the edge of grabbing onto something important. If she catches it now, maybe it will be hers, and that’s an exciting thought. 

“I heated the water earlier,” she says. “I thought I might come in later in the day.”

“Convenient,” says Obi-Wan faintly. He’s studying the steam of the hot bath, the soaps, the oils, the patterned tiles high on the walls.

Anakin has his arms wrapped around himself, shuddering as he warms up in the steamy air. "Are you going to wait until we're naked to shout at us--at me?" he asks her.

“I told you, I can do that later,” she says. “Warm up. Bath, then tea. Then we can talk.” She pauses. “Do you want me to leave or stay?”

Obi-Wan looks at her like she’s insane, so she looks at Anakin instead.

"Stay," he says forcefully. "Of course, stay. I want--both of you." He says it so fiercely that he sounds like himself again.

She leans forward to kiss him quickly, refusing to feel awkward about it now that all of them know everything. Then she turns to Obi-Wan. “I can still go,” she says.

Obi-Wan, eyebrows as high as they can go, says, “I’m overcome.” Padmé is startled into laughter.

“Well?” she says.

“I just didn’t think I’d be outed and—reassured—within five minutes,” he says. She thinks he’s blushing under his beard. “I really am--overcome. But--” He takes a stuttering breath. “Stay. I--do stay.”

Anakin, apparently satisfied that nothing is going wrong at exactly this moment, wastes no time in climbing out of his dripping, freezing clothes. He slips into the water before either of them has a chance to undress. Maybe he's trying to escape.

“I can’t possibly, if you’re looking at me,” Obi-Wan says.

“Oh!” says Padmé, and turns away to undress. Her heartbeat quickens and she’s caught between a smile and a grimace. She does look back, very quickly, just once, and can’t help congratulating herself on a wonderful idea.

It makes her so giddy that she practically flings herself into the bath, dunking all the way under the water before coming back up, spitting and laughing. By the time she can see, Obi-Wan is perched at the far side of the bath, looking like he’s sucked on a piece of sour fruit.

"You're much more exposed like that, Master," Anakin says calmly, teasing a little. Things must be almost all right if he's calling Obi-Wan Master.

Obi-Wan looks horribly anxious. “I should go,” he says, “this is a mistake, this is all--” He grabs the edge of the bath and starts to drag himself out.

“Wait,” Padmé says quickly. “Wait, wait, it’s all right.” She catches his arm. Too softly for Anakin to hear, she says, “Are you angry at me?”

“No,” Obi-Wan says, blinking uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m not angry at you,” she says. “So if you want to stay--please stay.”

Something about what she’s said works on him, because he relaxes back into the water and just looks sheepish instead of distressed.

“It’s all very strange,” he says.

“Here,” she says, and kisses him. 

Anakin, who is not the point of this moment, makes a noise of surprise. "Oh," he says. "That's--yes." He's usually full of words, but watching them, he sounds lost.

It drags her heart in his direction, but she isn’t there yet. She smiles at Obi-Wan, making sure it’s a deep enough smile that her dimples show. Obi-Wan, still looking slightly baffled, smiles back. 

Anakin, who can never stand being left out of anything, dips himself the water and swims a few strokes over to the two of them. "Padmé," he says.

“Anakin?” she answers, still smiling.

"You really knew?" he asks. "I thought you might."

“I had an idea,” she says. “I’m not surprised.” The whole of what she feels is so complicated. Because she’s married, but he came first. Because Anakin didn’t tell either of them about the other. Because she loves Obi-Wan as a friend and doesn’t want to hurt him. Because she doesn’t want to be hurt.

Anakin nods. "Later," he says. He does that sometimes, reads what she's feeling. All of the rage she saw in him on the beach seems to be gone, or at least hidden.

She’s struck with how much he worries her, when something isn’t right, with how much she doesn’t want to lose him. She kisses him, as well, more forcefully than she kissed Obi-Wan, her body pressed against his with the water lapping against her chest. She breaks the kiss and looks meaningfully at him. _Prove you can see us,_ she wants to say. 

"Padmé," he says. His voice is smooth again, as if it was never ragged. The corners of his mouth turn up. "Hi."

She softens, although she isn’t going to forget what she saw. In fact, she wills herself to picture it over and over, and along with it, every instance of scorn and frustration. They’re going to have to talk, and it’s going to be painful, and that is why she wanted something sweet first. 

“Hello, Ani,” she says. She reaches up to kiss his cheek, and then wades through the high water to the side of the bath where the soaps are kept. They’re all cut into beautiful shapes--her cousins always delighted in details.

Anakin accepts a flower-shaped one, with the soap petals all nested within one another. Instead of cleaning himself, he says, "Catch," and tosses it to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s hand shoots out and he snatches it out of the air with the flicker of a smile. 

“A flower? How thoughtful,” he says, looking at it. “I almost hate to ruin it.”

Padmé picks an animal shaped one for herself--long nose, tall ears, noble bearing. She rubs it against her arms, and a faint perfume wafts up. “Doesn’t it deserve to fulfill its purpose?” she asks.

Anakin sinks into the water and swims to the soaps, picking out a star-shaped one for himself. "I'm getting sand in the bath. Will it drain out?"

“The filtering system will take care of it,” she says. She puts her hand in his hair. “Sand everywhere.”

“I don’t know why he was on the beach,” Obi-Wan says. “He hates the stuff.”

Anakin looks at Obi-Wan with the most nakedly kind expression Padmé has seen on his face in a long time. "I do hate it," he says.

Obi-Wan must be surprised as well, because he gazes back at Anakin like a smitten schoolboy, soap still cupped in his hands. How had they ever thought they would hide this from her?

Anakin ducks his head under the water, swims a few strokes, then comes back up, streaming water. "That's better," he says. "This is all--much better."

Obi-Wan sets the soap down and hooks his elbows over the edge of the bath. He sinks a little deeper in, head back, and sighs. 

“Come here,” Padmé says to Anakin. “I’ll do your hair.”

He always says yes to this. He's almost childlike in his trust when she's touching his hair. He closes his eyes and hands her the soap. She can almost feel the tension go out of his shoulders. This time, though, he reaches out a hand to Obi-Wan. "Come here, Obi-Wan. Don't be all the way over there."

Obi-Wan looks at Padmé. He’s so serious and worried all the time lately. 

She smiles at him. “What do you say?” she says. “We already kissed.”

Obi-Wan brightens, and laughs out loud. “All right,” he says, and swims over to perch on the seat built halfway down the wall. “There,” he tells Anakin. “Satisfied?”

"For now," Anakin says, which is pushing it, Padmé thinks, given how many mistakes he's made today. But she's so relieved to hear him sounding happy and engaged again.

She says, “Shh,” and puts her hands in his hair, and that quiets him down. While she works, Obi-Wan starts cleaning up next to her. She says, “I think Anakin has volunteered for dinner duty.”

Anakin groans, but he doesn't argue. "I can do that. It's going to be more soup. That's all I know how to make." He keeps darting little glances at Obi-Wan, as if he's waiting for something to go amiss.

Obi-Wan starts to answer, and then sneezes. The sound echoes in the tiled room, and they all absorb it for a moment.

“It’s going to have to be you,” he says. “I am very clearly dying.”

"I got you sick," Anakin says. He sounds genuinely unhappy. Good. "All that water."

“I’ve been through worse,” Obi-Wan says. Padmé says nothing.

Anakin makes a joke, referencing some planet Padmé has never heard of. It's not the reaction she would have hoped for. He's going to have to take responsibility at some point for how he's been. But, whether or not it’s what she wants, it seems to be making Obi-Wan happier. By the time they’re all clean and just dawdling in the hot water because they can, his face is pink and round with quiet pleasure, and he can look at her without seeming stricken with embarrassment. 

"I'm getting out soon," Anakin says, bobbing low in the water. "After all, I have to start dinner."

“Oh, go on,” Obi-Wan says, sniffing. “We can take our time, you know. We’re not helping.” Padmé laughs. 

Anakin hesitates, his smile wobbling, but then he does get out. He wraps a towel around his waist, looks down at the two of them for a minute, and slips out of the room.

Obi-Wan watches him go, then gradually brings his gaze down to Padmé. “All right, Senator,” he says, not unkindly. “What’s your game?”

Padmé regards him gravely. "It's not a game," she says. "It's an attempt to get the best outcome for all of us here."

“Yes,” he says patiently, “but what do you think that is? What do you want from me?”

Padmé tries to marshall her thoughts. There are so many things she wants, some of them reasonable, some of them less so. "I want you and Anakin to sort out the animosity between you, for one thing," she says.

Obi-Wan looks down. “I don’t know what it is,” he says. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

Padmé's heart breaks. She reaches out and takes his hands. "Nothing," she says. "Absolutely nothing. I love Anakin so much, but you have done nothing to make him treat you like this." Whatever is wrong between them starts with Anakin--or somewhere worse.

“You don’t know that’s true,” he says. “There’s so much you don’t see.”

"I know you," she says. "And I know Anakin." It feels like a betrayal, but Anakin is not right lately. "He's so good, but a lot of his anger is misdirected."

“He’s _so_ angry,” Obi-Wan says, looking at a loss. “I can’t remember when it started. After his mother died, or always? Is it something I allowed, or something being done to him?”

Padmé hasn't had time to sort through her own feelings on that. It's something being stoked, she thinks, but she isn't ready to commit to that. "It's worse lately," she says lightly. "But I don't think it's irreversible, and I don't think it's your fault."

Obi-Wan’s expression clears. “Well, I trust your judgment,” he says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world to do. 

"But I think you see more of him than I do," Padmé says gently. "And I don't just mean your time. He feels he has to be a certain way with me." Anakin is more himself with her in some ways, but not in all ways. With Obi-Wan, he doesn't feel as if he has to be strong all the time.

“I see his frustration,” Obi-Wan says. “And his--intensity.”

She thinks he means _violence_ , and she wishes he would say so.

"I'm hoping that together we can reign that in," she says, and she immediately kicks herself. She doesn't want to make it sound as if this is all about Anakin.

Obi-Wan makes a face, sneezes again, and hunches further into the hot water.

“So you want Anakin’s and my relationship to improve,” he says, “and you want to be a team. I wonder how exactly--you know, you did kiss me. You might as well tell me what for.”

Padmé laughs. Obi-Wan always manages to sound so cavalier about the things he cares about. "I like you," she says honestly. "And now that everyone knows everything, I think we need to find an arrangement that works for everyone." She smiles at him. "It sounds a lot more boring than it is, Master Kenobi."

“Oh, I think it’s about as exciting as I can manage at the moment,” Obi-Wan says, looking bemused.

"Before that, though, we dry off and have dinner," Padmé says. "But I meant that kiss." She loves Obi-Wan deeply as a friend, and she's excited by the idea of kissing him. That's good enough for figuring out next steps.

Obi-Wan nods, and bobs under the water and out again. “No droids,” he says. “We’re going to have to come back and clean all this up. Maybe it’s better never to leave the room.”

Padmé laughs. "Anakin can do that, too." She slips out of the water and wraps a towel around herself. "Don't let yourself catch a chill."

“Mm,” Obi-Wan says from the bath, watching her with an odd half-smile. “I’ll be along in a moment, Padmé, don’t worry I’ve drowned.”

"Don't give me cause to worry," she says, smiling at him over her shoulder as she leaves.

 

xiii

Obi-Wan never appears for dinner. Padmé checks the bath, half-superstitious that he’s drowned after all, but doesn’t find him there. She does find him in his bedroom, fast asleep. He is sunk down into the pillows, his breaths so long and deep he could be hibernating.

She shuts the door quietly behind her and goes back to the dining room. 

“He’s asleep,” she says. “Your fault, I imagine.”

Anakin scowls. "Not funny."

“I wasn’t joking,” she says. She says it very calmly, and leaves room for him to look at her.

"What is it?" he says. He glances at the doorway and lowers his voice. "Is everything all right?"

She smiles. “I think so,” she whispers. “But I want to talk to you, while--” She nods in Obi-Wan’s direction.

"All right," Anakin says, his posture going tense and still.

“Here you are,” she says. She reaches up and tangles Anakin’s hair between her fingers. It looks so good like this. She’d spend all day playing with it, if she could.

Of course, she realizes, she _could_. At the moment.

She sets that pleasant thought aside and tries to school her ideas. You have to come at things right, with Anakin, so that his childhood rage and fear don’t twist them into something they’re not.

She says, “You love him.”

"Yes," Anakin says evenly. "Since I was young. But that doesn't mean--You know I love you too. More than anything." No acknowledgment that he did anything the wrong way, yet. Maybe he doesn't know. The Jedi seem more than capable of twisting the way someone thinks about love.

“You didn’t know I knew,” she says. “About the two of you sleeping together.”

"No," Anakin says. He doesn't meet her eyes. So he does know it's not right. "I hoped you knew. You're angry."

She would like something that simple. 

“I love you,” she says. “I care a great deal about him. And I understand that--maybe you feel like the Jedi parts of your life and my part of your life are separate. But you’re wrong.” She pauses. “And I don’t think the Jedi parts of your life would approve of what you do with Obi-Wan anyway.”

"Jedi are--" But Anakin is older now, and the half lie about being encouraged to love doesn't seem to be something he can bring himself to say. He shakes his head. "I know. I feel like I try to make everything love me and then destroy it. That's not what I'm trying to do."

She takes a deep breath, sorts through the feelings again. She _is_ angry, but it’s so hard not to feel like she’s on either of their sides.

“The hiding. Is it because you’re afraid of what I’d say?” she asks. “Or because you’re afraid of what he means?”

"I don't know," Anakin says slowly. "I think I was afraid I'd have to talk about it. And I don't know what to say. And I don't want to choose."

Padmé bites her lip. 

“You’re so angry with him, sometimes,” she says. “Are you sure you’re choosing him? That you’re not just doing this because you think you have to?” It’s painful to say, after reassuring Obi-Wan, but just because he’s been careful with Anakin doesn’t mean Anakin has been careful with himself.

"I don't have to do any of this," Anakin says. "The council doesn't want me to. Even the Chancellor doesn't want me to." He wrings his hands. "I just love you both so much, and I don't want to mess anything up." When he's upset like this, he loses ever ounce of the certainty that makes him who he is the rest of the time.

Padmé tries to be cold to it, though, to ask haltingly, “Does the Chancellor _know_? About him? About us?” How stupid has she been to imagine otherwise?

"Yes," Anakin says unhappily. "I didn't tell him. He figured it out. But he won't tell anyone. He's not a Jedi."

Padmé feels a real surge of anger, then, a sense of violation that wants to slap Palpatine across the face. He gets far too much of Anakin, and she loathes the idea that he’s gotten anything of _her_. Even when she trusted him most, she wouldn’t have wanted that.

“That’s not really the point,” she says. She feels suddenly uncomfortable in her skin. To think that he’s known, not just about Padmé or Obi-Wan, but about both of them. All while Padmé thought she was keeping secrets with Obi-Wan, and maybe Anakin. She’d thought she was protecting them in secret, and he was in the room all the time. Oh--she hates it. 

“I don’t know why he needed to be figuring things out about what you do when you’re not working,” she says, a little sharp.

"We're friends," Anakin says, his brow creasing. "Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Because the Chancellor didn't make me cheat on--anybody."

Padmé sighs. She has plenty to say about the Chancellor, and she will say it one of these days. But he’s not what she wanted to talk about--just an unpleasant detour. 

“No,” she says. Then tilts her head. “Obi-Wan came first?”

She doesn’t know if she means the sex, or Anakin’s love.

"Yes," Anakin says. He chews his lip and looks at her pensively. "Well--no. I loved you first. But you wouldn't look twice at me, and then you were far away…"

She doesn’t apologize. She says, testing, “But he’s not a consolation prize.”

"No," Anakin says. "We just got very close, as master and padawan. And as friends. And then it turned into more. It wasn't very long after that that you came back into my life. Maybe a year and a half." If he's trying to prove that he loves her best, he's trying to prove the wrong thing.

“All right,” she says. “I just--I’ve involved myself, now, but I don’t want to be involved unless I understand the terms. And I wasn’t sure.” It’s much better if it’s messy and out of sequence and driven by love. It’s much better than many of the alternatives. Padmé still feels uneasy.

"Involved--" Anakin's eyes are wide. "Padmé, you can't go anywhere. I mean, please don't. I'm sorry. I know I didn't handle this right, but we can make it right, now. I--this is worse than when Obi-Wan found out about you."

“I meant, get myself involved with him,” she says. “Romantically. Potentially. As if now is even a good time--” And then she is hit with a sickly burst of empathy for Obi-Wan. It must have hurt, finding out about Padmé.

“Oh, Anakin,” she adds, pressing a hand to her forehead.

Anakin just watches her, eyes dark, as if waiting for a blow to fall. "I want you involved. I want both of you to care for each other."

“I can’t speak for Obi-Wan,” she says, “but whatever we do together, I already care about him. He’s a friend, and a colleague, and I trust him with my life. Despite all this.” She weighs the next part, but holds it back for Anakin’s answer.

Anakin nods slowly, as if looking for a catch. "I'm glad," he says. "I want you to like each other."

Padmé says, “You aren’t going to ask why I broke the illusion today, in particular?”

"It wasn't because of what happened on the beach?" Anakin asks.

“It was,” Padmé says. “But I could have pretended not to see it, couldn’t I? It’s really no different than pretending not to see anything else.”

Anakin flushes. "Why, then?"

Before her eyes, Padmé sees Anakin throw Obi-Wan to the ground--sees Obi-Wan’s arms come up to guard his face. The memory recalls the same rush of tension and worry that struck her when she was standing at the window, watching them. For a minute, or two minutes, she hadn’t been sure what Anakin would do to him. Even now, the memory sits sluggish and uneasy in the pit of her stomach.

“Because you were angry with him,” she says. “And you’ve never touched me like that.”

"And I never would," Anakin says in a rush. Again, the wrong kind of reassurance.

“But you’d hurt Obi-Wan?” she asks. “Even though you love him?” It feels like an awful risk, but really, if asking this is a risk, then it’s one she has no choice but to take.

Anakin is silent and grave for a long moment. Then he says, "He trusts me. Can't you?"

Padmé can be hurt, where Anakin is involved, but she’s not as delicate as he is. 

She says, “He’s not unbreakable, Ani. He’ll just act like it because he loves you.”

"I know," Anakin says, but the look on his face says it hasn't occurred to him. "I don't want to break him."

“Good,” she says, and it is good, it’s relief of a pain she hasn’t let herself know she’s feeling. She knows Obi-Wan would do anything for Anakin, even if his strictness chafes Anakin sometimes. It makes her ill to think that Anakin would use that against him, knowing it or not.

She wishes she knew more about Anakin and Obi-Wan’s relationship. She’s trying to piece it together as they speak, from what she knows of each of them, of the little she knows about them together.

She says, “Would you do something for me?”

"Anything," Anakin says immediately.

“If you’re angry,” she says, “just imagine it’s me.”

"I don't--" He swallows the words and stops, looking stricken. Finally he says softly, "All right. I didn't want any of that. I just want him to love me."

“ _Anakin_ ,” she says, really disbelieving. “Don’t you know he does?” Obi-Wan is just private and self-deprecating. That doesn’t shrink his feelings any, she’s sure of it.

"Sometimes," he says. "Usually. I guess." He looks so lost.

“Oh, my love,” she says. “You should talk to him. And when he talks to you, you must believe him.” She tries to work out how to say what she knows in a way that won’t hurt anyone, that despite the rules and despite his loyalty and his sense of duty, Anakin is Obi-Wan’s fixed point.

She’s tried being resentful, once or twice, but she always ends up sympathizing instead.

"I promise," Anakin says. "I think--I think I've been scaring him lately." He holds up his fingers and rubs them together. "I didn't mean to. I was just trying to show him how good I am."

She doesn’t want to get involved in a fight over Anakin’s training--that’s entirely Obi-Wan’s jurisdiction, and she’s not interested in putting her foot in the door.

She says, repeating herself, “I think you need to slow down and talk to one another.” And then, she decides the time is now. “Come on,” she says, and takes his hand and leads him down the hall.

When they reach Obi-Wan’s room, she leans around Anakin to push the door open slightly. Obi-Wan is still deep asleep among the pillows, hair askew.

“You wore him out,” she observes.

"I know," Anakin says. "I'll catch up with you, all right?" He squeezes her hand and kisses her forehead.

“I’ll keep dinner warm,” she says. “I’ll try not to burn it.”

 

xiv.

Anakin closes the bedroom door behind Padmé and goes to the bed. He looks down at Obi-Wan, trying to remember how to quiet his racing heart. He doesn't want to think of Obi-Wan as someone breakable, someone who needs protection. It's a horrible thought that Anakin could hurt him.

When he's finally calm, he kneels on the bed and touches Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan is deeply asleep, but he’s a fighter, used to danger. When Anakin touches him, he wakes.

“Anakin,” he says, before his eyes are even fully open. He blinks, levering himself up on one elbow. “What--is it? What’s wrong?”

Anakin smiles despite himself. "I think we might both be a little too paranoid, Master. It's nothing. I just wanted to talk." He lies down next to Obi-Wan and settles back against the pillows, willing his body to relax. "I'll let you wake up."

Obi-Wan sits up and leans back, passing a hand over his eyes. “Ugh,” he says. “Splitting headache. Doesn’t seem fair.”

"Sorry," Anakin says. "It's probably my fault. Maybe you can just meditate it away." He hooks his leg over Obi-Wan's. He doesn't want to talk. He doesn't know how to say what he needs to say.

“I think it is your fault,” Obi-Wan says. He doesn’t sound angry, or scared. How is Anakin supposed to know if he’s hurt him? “And the weather,” Obi-Wan adds. “Never mind. Did you need something?”

"I wanted to talk about what happened," Anakin says, forcing the words out. Neither of them is good at difficult conversations. "On the beach. It's not the first time I've messed up like that, is it?"

Obi-Wan gets very quiet. He says, “I’m not trying to limit you, Anakin. I’m not trying to control you. I’m only--I’m meant to guide you. I only want to lead you true.”

Anakin closes his eyes and remembers what Padmé told him. He has to believe Obi-Wan, if only because he said he would do it. "I feel," he starts. He swallows and tries again. "Some people think--" But no, Obi-Wan will know that _some people_ means. "I don't want to be a burden," he says.

Obi-Wan says immediately, “You have never been a burden.”

Anakin fights past the disbelief. "And you chose to train me because…"

Obi-Wan must sense by now that they’re having more of a conversation than usual, because he says, “Let me be clear: I made you my padawan because I promised Qui-Gon I would do it, but I’ve never resented you for it or regretted it for a moment. No one starts as close as they end up, Anakin, that’s just the nature of relationships. All that should matter, I hope, is that I chose you then and I love you now.”

Anakin flinches without meaning too. The words sound like picking a fight because they don't sound true. He clenches his teeth. He _promised_. "All right," he says. "If you love me, I shouldn't attack you like that."

Obi-Wan says quietly, “I’m ashamed to think I haven’t taught you any better way to confront your emotions.”

"I'm sorry," Anakin says in a rush. "I'm so angry all the time, and I--I get confused about what I want, but I don't want that. I just want you to be impressed and to love me and--" It's too late to stop, it's all coming out. "And all I'm going to do is make you hate me. Master, forgive me." He doesn't let himself look away from Obi-Wan this time.

Obi-Wan looks tired and sad. “Am I that bad at showing you?” he says. “I do love you, and you do impress me. You’re incredible. I’m _proud_ , Anakin. I’m only--I’m trying to give you stability, and structure, and discipline, because you’ll be even better with those things. To give you fortitude, and happiness. What ever made you think--? It’s not because I don’t think you’re good enough.” He sounds amazed. 

"I don't know," Anakin says, frustrated. "I don't know a lot of people, or--or a lot of ways of interacting with them. You're not like the Chancellor. You don't tell me this stuff all the time." Saying it out like, it sounds so wrongheaded that he wants to laugh.

“I didn’t realize you couldn’t tell,” Obi-Wan says. “After all these years.” Anakin almost snaps at what sounds like irritation, except--he thinks this is what Padmé is talking about. He thinks Obi-Wan is hurt.

"I know you care about me," he says. "And I care about you. But I don't always...I'm sorry. I need to have faith in you." He rests his head on Obi-Wan's shoulder, sad and tired. He doesn't want to hurt Obi-Wan. He didn't realize it was so easy.

“You mean, instead of knocking me into the sand the minute I question your judgment?” Obi-Wan says lightly, but it’s not light at all, and there’s a tremor in Obi-Wan’s voice. It reverberates through Anakin’s head, unavoidable.

"Yes," Anakin says miserably. "Instead of that." He's promised himself before that he'll make things better with Obi-Wan, but somehow he always ends up forgetting.

“I have to admit,” Obi-Wan says quietly. “That took me aback.” It doesn’t sound so bad, until Anakin considers that he’s never heard Obi-Wan admit to being afraid.

"I didn't mean to," Anakin says. "I want you to--to be able to handle me, Master. I don't want to be able to do that." His throat aches with what feels like the urge to cry. "I'm going to try harder."

Obi-Wan takes a moment to answer. “Thank you,” he says. “I--” He doesn’t finish his thought, just shakes his head and reaches a hand up to cradle Anakin’s face. “I love you very much, you know,” he says. “How much am I allowed to love you? It’s—oh, far more than that.”

Against his will, Anakin is crying. "I love you," he says. It comes out strangled and awful. "I love you, I love you, I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan’s arms wrap around him and pull him in tight, petting and rocking him like a child.

“Shh, shh,” Obi-Wan says. “It’s all right, Anakin. Anger is a terrible thing. But you’re bigger than it is. And I know your heart.”

Anakin squeezes his eyes shut and lets Obi-Wan hold him. Maybe it's true. Maybe Obi-Wan does know his heart. He usually feels that no one does, or on a good day that Padmé or Palpatine might. "Now I know yours, too," he mutters.

A soft kiss lands on the top of his head. He hears Obi-Wan’s heartbeat flutter under one ear.

“Only ask me,” Obi-Wan says.

"I promise," Anakin says. And despite his intention to go and help Padmé with food, he finds himself drifting off in Obi-Wan's arms.

xv.

Obi-Wan does feel funny when he wakes up. It’s nothing to be fussed about, just a little cold, but it makes him feel sluggish and stupid. He tries to rally himself by going to the porch to meditate. It’s early when he starts, and he sits there long enough that he eventually hears the sounds of Anakin and Padmé getting up. He smells food cooking. It smells good; it’s hard for even these hapless chefs to ruin meat and eggs. 

He sneezes three times in succession, and senses Padmé at the door. He turns to her with watering eyes. “Good morning, Senator,” he says.

"My official title?" she says, with a rueful smile. "What have I done wrong?" she offers him a plate of only slightly burned meat and more seriously burned eggs. "Except this," she adds.

“I mean it fondly,” he says, taking the plate with a thankful smile. “Oh, you two have certainly done your work this morning.” 

"We tried," she says. She hovers next to him, as if unsure whether she's going to sit. "How do you feel?"

“Only barely under the weather,” he says. “Not to worry, Padmé.” He tucks into breakfast. He’s had worse, and really the flavor isn’t bad, under the char. He pushes the food around a bit, and says, “And you? How do you feel about--things, today?”

"Better," Padmé says. "Anakin and I had a nice talk. I think it's going to be all right." She says it so easily.

“It’s like you aren’t even angry,” Obi-Wan says.

Padmé tilts her head to one side, thoughtful."I am," she says. "Mostly at him. But after all, you came first. Aren't you angry?"

Obi-Wan tilts his head. Her words strike at something in his chest, something that’s kept itself hidden until just now. “It never occured to me that I could be,” he says.

"You have as much right to him as anyone," Padmé says gently. "More. I don't mean to talk about Anakin like a possession, but you two belong to each other. You must feel something about that."

He does, but it isn’t simple.

“My relationship with him is condemned from every angle,” he says. “What right do I have to be jealous, when what I feel shouldn’t even exist?”

"According to who?" She sounds angry, but not, he thinks, at him. "It does exist. You can feel whatever you want."

“Ah,” says Obi-Wan. “Then, if you clear the guilt away, I might feel angry. I think I’m mostly sad.”

She nods. "That sounds like you. Anakin's angry, you're sad. Maybe together the three of us can work on those things."

Obi-Wan suspects she’s preparing to put all her own feelings on hold to take care of their mess. That isn’t what he wants. He sets down his plate. “You’re a very kind person, Padmé,” he says. “And I am glad to know you. Even if we’re in the middle of several debacles.”

She smiles at him, warm and genuine. "I'm so glad we do know each other, Obi-Wan." She covers his hand with hers. "You're very important to me."

Obi-Wan takes her fingers and squeezes. “My dear Padmé,” he says.

"Oh," she says, and she flings her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

He squeezes her arm to his chest and says, “Like you said, it will be all right. We’ll do what you want and work out what’s wrong, and... find our way from there.”

"I don't know, Obi-Wan," she says, "why aren't we talking about what _you_ want?"

He catches his breath. “I want us to be at peace,” he says. “I want you to be happy. I want Anakin to be--himself. The best of himself.”

"No," Padmé says. "What do you _want?_ "

Obi-Wan feels so tired. “I want not to be without him,” he says. “I don’t want him to leave.”

"I don't intend to take him from you," Padmé says gently. "And I would never allow anyone else to take him from either of us."

Obi-Wan feels an awful hunger at her words. “You’re too good, Padmé,” he says. “Too generous by half.”

She smiles. "Not all the time. But I'm good at getting there. Being a politician doesn't hurt. You learn to make your emotions more appropriate."

Obi-Wan laughs. “Being a jedi is the same way,” he says. “Or it’s supposed to be. We really have had a rough time lately.” He frowns. “I’ve been meditating. I think I need to speak with Anakin about some of what’s been going on.”

"I think you should," Padmé says, although it's extremely likely that she doesn't know the half of it.

“Yes,” he says. “There are things I’ve missed. Things I’ve let go. It’s time to face them.”

She looks troubled, but she doesn't ask. "If you need to talk after, come find me," she says.

“I’ll be all right,” Obi-Wan says. “You’ve fortified me with eggs.”

She stands and kisses his cheek. "Burnt eggs. Take care, Obi-Wan." She touches his shoulder, a moment of light pressure, as she goes back into the house.

Obi-Wan looks down at his burnt eggs, which do make him feel better, sighs, and gets to his feet. 

He finds Anakin quickly enough, on the porch as well but on the other side of the house, looking out across the water. He doesn't turn when Obi-Wan comes in, but his body tenses a little, so Obi-Wan knows he's noticed him. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan greets him, taking the seat to his right. It’s a bit chilly. 

"Padmé says you're sick," Anakin says. "I suppose that's my fault."

“Nonsense,” says Obi-Wan. “That’s what always happens the moment you go on leave.” He stifles a sneeze.

"We'll have to stay on leave, then." He grimaces rather than smiles.

Obi-Wan doesn’t want to disrupt his mood any further, but he’s promised himself to do it. He ought to do it. He says, “Anakin, I want to talk to you.”

Anakin frowns deeply and turns to look at him. "We talked. Didn't we? I apologized. Are you going to--What did you want to talk about?"

“I didn’t forget,” Obi-Wan says. “But I think--neither of us has dealt with the other one fairly. You’ve learned something new, yes?”

Anakin's face does something strange. It's somewhere between guilt and pride. "I have." His voice radiates pure defiance.

“Tell me about it,” Obi-Wan says. His voice is calm. He’s been thinking about this.

There's a long pause, and Obi-Wan gets the uncomfortable feeling that Anakin is deciding whether or not to lie.

"I read about it in a book," Anakin says finally. "An old one. It's supposed to be something some very powerful Force-sensitive people can do. I can't control it, though, at least not all the time. And I can't do anything very big."

“And what exactly can you do?” Obi-Wan says, although of course he’s seen the basics of it. 

"Sparks," Anakin says. "Mostly from my fingers, but not just my fingers. My mouth, too." He smirks.

Obi-Wan clears his throat. “So nice to hear that you’ve found, ah--proper applications for this, this skill of yours,” he says.

Anakin laughs and then immediately turns serious. "Yes, but it's not a party trick. I'm going to get better at it. It would be really useful in battle, especially against droids." Obi-Wan can’t tell if its application in battle is something newly invented for this conversation, and Anakin is perhaps most proud of it because it shows power. 

He does know that practicality is not usually Anakin’s strong suit--he’s always climbing a mountain with no summit, and everything that he encounters on his way up is incidental. 

He says, “You’ve tried to show me and I haven’t responded.”

Anakin stills. His whole body looks as if he's listening for something far-off. "But you did notice," he says.

“I noticed,” Obi-Wan says. He sifts through everything in his head and tries to pull out the thing that will make this all right. “I shouldn’t have let it be, I know. I’m sorry for that.”

Anakin nods and relaxes slightly. "Thank you, Master. I could see that you don't like it. I don't understand why."

“Well,” Obi-Wan says. “For one thing, I can’t do it. So I don’t know what to expect. For another, it’s not traditionally--mind, _traditionally_ \--a Jedi ability. But most importantly, Anakin, you’ve only ever done it when you’re angry with me. Forgive me for not being a better teacher—better friend—but I haven’t known what to do.”

Anakin chews his lip and is silent. For a moment, Obi-Wan is afraid Anakin will attack him again. Instead, Anakin leans forward and buries his face in his hands. "Master--I lied to you."

Obi-Wan feels cold inside, but he schools his face. If Anakin is lying to him, at least he’s offering up the truth. At least. That’s a start, isn’t it?

He says, “What do you mean?” As gently as he can.

"I didn't get it from a book," Anakin says into his hands. "I mean--I did, but I wouldn't have found it if the Chancellor hadn't told me where to look. He said he read about it."

Everything in Obi-Wan comes to an instant, frigid stop.

“Do you know, does he make a frequent practice of reading practical guides to using the Force?” he says, very carefully.

Anakin lifts his head. He looks miserable. "I don't know. He knows a lot about it. I think he finds it interesting." The words sound very hollow.

It would be impossible, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t be--so _high up_ , and they didn’t realize? It couldn’t be. Obi-Wan’s bias against Palpatine is getting in the way of reason. 

Except that this is Palpatine, who is so interested in Anakin. Who wants to keep such close watch over the Jedi Council. Whom Anakin talks to, who always knows where they are.

And it must be someone.

He can’t spoil things with Anakin by jumping on this, so he says, “What exactly did the book tell you about it? I’m afraid I’ve only ever heard of it by hearsay, and vague hearsay at that.”

"I know you're going to be angry," Anakin says. "It says it's something the Sith cultivated. But that doesn't mean you need to embrace the Dark Side to use it!" He rubs his face. "I just wanted to see if I could do it. The Chancellor said I should try." He seems to realize it doesn't sound right, because he falls silent, staring at the water.

“I’m not angry,” says Obi-Wan, “at _you.”_

At the very least, Palpatine is ignorant, interfering, and wrongheaded. At the very least. What right does he have to hang around Anakin like this, _grooming_ him away from the Jedi who are his family? His _calling_?

"The Chancellor was trying to help," Anakin says stiffly. "It's not his fault I came to him in the first place. He didn't ask me to do that."

“The Chancellor is intelligent, experienced, and three times your age,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m sure he’d be the first to take ownership of his own choices. But it might be nothing,” he adds. “Only a bit thoughtless.”

"He knows a lot about the Force," Anakin says, although whose argument that's meant to support is unclear. "You think it's bad, don't you? The lightning. But I think it's because you don't understand it."

At this point, the lightning itself is the least of Obi-Wan’s worries--which has the benefit of making it easy to say, “It has a dark history, Anakin, but I don’t think it’s evil.”

"A dark history," Anakin repeats. "That's what it said in the book." He wraps his arms around himself, which makes him look incredibly young. "The Chancellor was afraid you'd overreact if I told you I was experimenting with it. But he was wrong."

“I get the feeling,” says Obi-Wan, “that I do not come off particularly well in your discussions.”

"I'm sorry," Anakin says, and it comes out tortured and genuine. "I don't think he likes you. But that's not a reason for me to complain to him. You're like my blood."

“Have I made it very difficult for you to talk to me?” Obi-Wan asks, a little helplessly, but he’s starting to think that isn’t it. That maybe it’s Anakin’s ambition, paired with--something rotten, and not his own. 

"No--not really." Anakin looks lost. "I just think sometimes you're set in your ways, like the rest of the Council. Palpatine isn't like that."

“Perhaps not,” Obi-Wan says. “Well--here’s a deal for you. Let me walk with you, when you wish to go somewhere new. I don’t have to have been there before to go with you.I want you to challenge yourself. It just might be helpful to have a Jedi Master along--just as a kill switch. As _backup_. Palpatine’s not Force-sensitive, is he?”

Of course he’s not supposed to be. Just in case he is, and Anakin knows. Oh, Obi-Wan hopes Anakin doesn’t know. That would be unbearable.

"No," Anakin says. "He just finds it interesting. Wouldn't you, if you were running the Republic and working hand in hand with the Jedi?" His words sound terribly empty, but like he believes them. They just don't sound like his words.

“I can hardly say,” says Obi-Wan. “But let’s leave him aside for a moment. I didn’t really come out here to talk about Palpatine.” He suddenly feels his illness again, and shuts his eyes for a moment to recover. “Tell me. Can you do it when you’re not angry?”

"Ask Padmé," Anakin says. And then, seeing Obi-Wan's face, "Yes."

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath. 

“Show me?” he asks.

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes and holds his hands out, palms up, in front of him. His fingers hook into claws and then little blue lines of lightning are dancing from one finger to another. After a second, he stops, shakes the sparks off his hands, and opens his eyes.

"It's easier when I'm angry, though," he says.

Obi-Wan winces internally. Please, _please_ let him not push his apprentice into--it didn’t even bear thinking about. And Anakin is good, too good for that path, only ambitious and emotional and needing more stability. Not bad. He isn’t bad. 

Obi-Wan says, “Well, if you’d like to keep doing it--and it’s a very neat trick--I think you’ll have to find a way to disconnect it from your anger. Anything that feeds off anger--or feeds it--is going to have the wrong sort of pull on you. I’m not saying to stop. I’m only saying--mind the dangers, before they really are dangerous.”

"Yes, Master," Anakin mutters, and Obi-Wan can see that he's ashamed. There are worse things. Just as long as the shame doesn't feed back into his anger.

Obi-Wan has been so far at a loss over him for the last few months that it’s hard not to just sit there spouting reassurances, but they won’t help. No, they’ll only push Anakin further away. And the icy block in Obi-Wan’s chest tells him there’s a reason, there’s a _reason_ , for Anakin’s worsening moods and lofty ideas and illicit communications and strange experiments and--

So much. How has Obi-Wan missed this, _all_ of this? He’s never even trusted Palpatine. Cold aside, he feels sick.

“I’ll help you,” he says. “With everything.”

Anakin reaches over and grabs Obi-Wan's hand, needy and impulsive. "I feel like we've grown too far apart, Master," he says. He clears his throat. "I don't want that. With Padmé, when we came in out of the rain--I felt like that rift was closing."

Obi-Wan has to clench his jaw against the strength of feeling that washes over him. 

He says, “I’d like us to be close again.” He squeezes Anakin’s hand.

Anakin grabs Obi-Wan's jaw and kisses him, fast and desperate. He only lets go when he's gasping for breath. He says Obi-Wan's name, and his eyes are so washed out with emotion that they look almost yellow.

Obi-Wan is shaken, his hands knotted in Anakin’s sleeves. He’s so afraid that--he’s not too late, he _isn’t_ too late, his Anakin, _his_ Padawan, is still here, is still kind, is still seeking out the good. 

Palpatine. He has to know.

He breaks the kiss very carefully and says, “I’m sorry to ruin a, ah, good time--just a bit woozy.” He puts together what he thinks is a very convincing smile.

Anakin nods and rubs his face. "I'm--I'm going to school my emotions, Obi-Wan. Thank you. For talking to me. I haven't been very fair to you."

“You’re not the first student to chafe against a teacher that he sees far too much of,” Obi-Wan says. He pats Anakin’s face.

Anakin gives him a real smile. His eyes are warm again. "Thanks, Obi-Wan. I should let you get some rest."

“I’ll take that,” Obi-Wan says agreeably. He stands up stiffly and goes back inside, to his rooms. He brings the food with him, but he doesn’t touch it. He waits for an opportune moment that doesn’t come, meditating alone and steeling himself against visions that tell him to leave, leave, as fast as he can.

xvi.

That evening, they all have dinner together. Padmé isn't Force-sensitive, but she can tell that something is wrong. Anakin and Obi-Wan are both being aggressively jovial with one another. After Anakin goes to meditate by the water as the sun goes down--which he never does without prompting--she makes sure to tidy away the dishes. She doesn't want Obi-Wan to do everything, especially if he's still not completely well.

Obi-Wan wanders in and out of the kitchen, and then stands in the doorway and says, “Padmé. I’m quite certain we need to leave here.”

Padmé pauses, a dish in her hand. "Why? Do you sense something?" This place should be safer than anywhere else.

He says, elliptically, “I told you I would look into whether Anakin’s communications with the Chancellor would have any effect on our security here. I have, and I believe they do.”

"You think someone's intercepted them?" Padmé says. But if it was that, he would have said.

“I’m concerned that it may be...something else,” he says. Then hesitates. “Padmé, I’m not certain, but I don’t want to risk revealing my suspicions if it turns out I’m wrong. Can you trust that I may be right, and help me convince Anakin to relocate until everything is sorted out?”

"Yes," she says without question. She trusts Obi-Wan. Most importantly, she trusts him to have Anakin's best interests are heart, which isn't something she can say of a lot of people. "You could tell me, though," she adds. "I'm safe."

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes for several seconds, and then nods. 

“I trust you to be,” he says. “And I’m afraid I can’t risk not telling _one_ of you, either. I think there is a--small--no, larger than small--chance...that Palpatine may be the Sith we have been hunting.”

Padmé drops the dish. It doesn't break, but it clatters into the sink among the others. She isn't a Jedi, but she's picked up enough to understand at least some of the implications. "How can that be?" she demands.

That’s not really an answerable question, maybe, but Obi-Wan skirts it for the next best thing. 

“It’s incredible that he’s kept it secret, if I’m right,” he says. “But...if I’m right. It would explain his fascination with--his strangely precise knowledge of force-users. It would explain--it would explain how Anakin has been, since they started spending so much time together.”

"Tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying," Padmé says. She's amazed at how steady her voice is. There's a reason Obi-Wan is telling her instead of Anakin.

“What’s worse?” Obi-Wan says. “Oh, I mean on a personal level. Obviously there’s not much worse than realizing the Republic is controlled by a monster. But as far as Anakin goes--wouldn’t it be better to think that the oddness in him is something foreign, deliberately planted?”

"It depends how deeply it's been planted," Padmé says stiffly. It's almost better to be worrying about Anakin than to try to wrap her mind around what it would mean if Palpatine were a Sith. It stings to think she wouldn't have seen it. He was a mentor to her once.

“He hasn’t turned to the Dark Side, Padmé,” Obi-Wan says, with his soft, concerned eyes that are sometimes too much. “And he hasn’t even known to resist. He’s very strong, you know, and he has a loving heart.. If it’s there--we’re going to root it out. He’ll root it out of himself.”

"I believe that," she says. She hopes that Obi-Wan truly does. "If this is true--I'm going to have a lot of very hard work to do. It's good you told me. Are you sure we can't tell him?" It's not that she has a problem with keeping secrets from Anakin, but she hates to think that he's repeatedly exposing himself to the Chancellor's influence.

“I need to be sure there’s something to it first,” Obi-Wan says. “Or he’ll see it as a breach of trust that he’ll never forgive me for.”

"He's going to see it that way no matter what, unless you're careful," Padmé says. She wonders if Obi-Wan understands quite what Palpatine means to Anakin. Anakin, who never had a father. She thinks of all the ways Palpatine has poured himself into those empty spaces and she feels sick with rage.

Obi-Wan pales. He meets her eyes, though, and says steadily, “Then if I am wrong, perhaps you can do me the favor of not telling him what I’ve said. If I’m right--I suppose his hatred is something I will have to risk.”

"I'm with you," Padmé says quietly. "Whatever it takes to save him and the Republic. I'm with you."

Obi-Wan nods shortly, and takes a moment to gaze at his feet and recover himself. “We’re going to leave Naboo,” he says. “I’ll take my own ship and go ahead of you. I may become--mysteriously lost. I won’t confront Palpatine,” he adds hurriedly. “I have to reach Master Yoda.”

"Anakin will be upset," Padmé says. It's the least of their worries, but she keeps thinking how devastated he'll be by every piece of this.

“I know,” Obi-Wan says. 

"It's fine," Padmé says, even though it's not. "Are _you_ all right?" After all, he cares about Anakin as much she does. And the implications for the Republic, including the Jedi, will also be devastating.

“Of course,” he says, and smiles at her. “Padmé. I have a course for you to follow--somewhere for you to go. It’s all settled. You and Anakin will be safe there, and I’ll be in contact as soon as I can. Let Anakin know I went ahead to ready things where you’re going.” He holds out his hand, with something in it. 

Padmé holds out her hand, full of misgivings. Anakin is going to know something is wrong. But let that be her problem. "All right," she says.

He drops a little sphere into her palm, and then clasps her hand over it for a moment.

“You truly are a wonder,” he says. “May the Force be with you, Padmé.”

She can't help herself. She flings her arms around him.

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll take care of this, I promise. I promise I will.”

"We'll take care of it," she corrects him. "And we'll take care of each other." She kisses his cheek. "Maybe the Force be with you, Obi-Wan."

He smiles again, then pulls away, then leaves. Padmé watches him go, then begins stacking the dishes in the sink before going to pack.

xvii.

Padmé is very good at channelling her fears into something productive, but there’s a difference when it comes to a fear of this magnitude. She finishes cleaning up, fastidious, and then goes to their rooms to pack. Her ears are bent on hearing Anakin the moment he walks through the door.

It's not long before he comes in. He starts to say something, then cuts himself short. "What are you doing?" he asks. "Are we leaving?"

“Obi-Wan thinks someone is paying too much attention to the messages,” she says, which is close enough to the truth that she hopes he’ll forgive her. “He went ahead, I think so he could make the final arrangements at our destination in person. I think he’s concerned for my safety,” she adds with a disapproving frown.

"Ah," Anakin says. "That sounds like him. Well, I think he's being overly cautious. He was being--strange. Earlier."

“How do you mean?” she says. She doesn’t stop folding.

"Asking a lot of questions," Anakin says. "Are we really going? I was just starting to relax." Padmé imagines searching his voice for some hint that he knows what Palpatine might be.

She hopes he doesn’t. She hopes he has no idea.

She says, “You’ll have to sort him out when we arrive, then.”

"I will," Anakin says, with a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Although honestly, I hope they find us. Then I can deal with them. I don't want you to get hurt, of course," he adds quickly.

“So courteous,” she says, flirting back. “I imagine that this is one step closer to finding out who’s been sabotaging all three of us, though. It might turn out to be exactly the help we needed.”

"Did Obi-Wan see something that made him think we're being followed?" Anakin asks. He moves to stand beside her and starts folding clothes as well. "Or is this just his paranoia over my contact with the Chancellor?"

“I didn’t think to ask for details,” she says. “You know, I tend to take everything he says at face value.”

Anakin hesitates. "Was that a rebuke?"

“No,” she says. “Just an observation. Of myself.” She shuts her luggage. 

Anakin sighs. "I'll pack. Sorry. I was just so happy with how things were. Of course something had to go wrong. It always does. And as always, it's my fault."

“Anakin,” Padmé says. “It’s all right. All right?” She lays a hand on his arm--the flesh one--and takes his hand and kisses it. “Obi-Wan’s not upset with you. You aren’t losing anything.”

Although, she thinks, there’s a good chance they will. No matter how this ends, they could all end up losing each other. Depending on how it ends, they could all lose more than that.

Anakin smiles down at her. "You always know what to say. Obi-Wan I did did talk about things, by the way. Like you told me to. When he wasn't being nosy, we talked about some of my new powers." At that, he looks pleased with himself.

Padmé’s stomach clenches. Is that--What a horrible thought. Is what Anakin has been doing with her part of what Obi-Wan sees as...Sith?

She says, “Good. It’s better when you two talk.” She waves a hand. “Pack, pack.”

He nods and gestures at the closet. His clothes float to him and he begins folding them, like it's nothing. Surely there can’t be anything wrong with it. It’s a little much, but there can’t be anything wrong with it. Padmé says, “I’m taking this to the ship,” and lifts her luggage onto the floor.

"I'll catch up," Anakin says. "I want to look at the lake one last time."

Padmé hesitates. “All right,” she says. “Are you sure? We should really hurry.”

"Please?" Anakin says, his voice strained. "I don't know where we're going next. It want to be able to remember this place, in case we don't come back."

She relents. 

“I’ll see you in a moment,” she says. 

xviii.

Anakin is absolutely certain that Obi-Wan wouldn't want him to tell the Chancellor that they're moving, so he's not going to do that. But he's troubled after their conversation about his new powers, and he wants to talk to someone about it. Padmé wouldn't understand. But Palpatine would. And it doesn't matter if someone traces their signal here. They're moving anyway.

Feeling a little like he's going behind Padmé's back, he goes down to the beach and contacts Palpatine.

This could wait. He knows it could. But their position here has already been given away, this is the only safe time to do it. Although he’s not sure at first whether the Chancellor will answer--he’s the busiest man in the Galaxy, after all--the Chancellor does. 

“Anakin,” he says. “It’s late. Is all well with you?”

"I don't know," Anakin says. And then, because he's short on time, "No. I had a frustrating conversation with Obi-Wan."

“I’m sorry,” the Chancellor says. “But--I can’t imagine you would call me if it were just a run-of-the-mill little tif. Something’s concerning you more deeply than a few sharp words, I think.”

"Obi-Wan's almost never sharp," Anakin says unhappily. "But he's disturbed by what I've been learning. The lightning, in particular. He didn't like that you pointed me toward that. I wish he'd see how much you're helping me." He can never stop talking, when it's just the two of them. It makes him feel young and foolish.

“When of course all that I want to do is to help you,” Palpatine says, with a little coaxing indignation built into the confidence of his voice. “It isn’t surprising that you’re coming to surpass the Jedi around you, you know. They’ve all had such high expectations for you--they have no right to be surprised that you’re meeting them.”

Anakin tries very hard to think about what Obi-Wan would say in this conversation. "It's not that. He says that lighting is--not something Jedi do. This isn't just about my skill level. It's something else. He was frightened."

“With all respect to your order, Anakin, the Jedi have always been superstitious, anxious, and--dare I say--covetous of power. Of course you make him nervous. But if he has any care for you at all he’ll know there’s no reason to be afraid. Your new learning makes you a higher version of yourself.”

Anakin turns the words over and over. Covetous of power. It's the kind of thing Palpatine always says, and Anakin believes it to be true of some Jedi. The rest he dismisses, the same way he dismisses Obi-Wan's prejudice against politicians.

"He is anxious," he says. "He's moving us."

Palpatine frowns. “Really? Have you been discovered? Attacked?”

"I don't know," Anakin says. "He thinks maybe our transmissions were intercepted. I probably shouldn't say more, but he didn't want me to contact you."

“I see,” Palpatine says. “And this is because of a danger he can’t adequately describe to you?”

"Yes," Anakin says. "He already left. Padmé and I are going to catch up. I won't be able to contact you from the new place, just to be safe." He wishes Obi-Wan hadn't gone ahead. He always gets himself into stupid situations.

“I don’t like that I won’t know where you are, Anakin,” Palpatine says. 

Anakin feels a great anxious swell of gratitude. "I know," he says. "But we'll be home soon, hopefully."

“Well,” says Palpatine, with a wistful smile. “I’ll miss your conversation while you’re gone, but at least I know you can look after yourself. And the senator.”

"I'll look after both of them," Anakin says. "I have to go. Be careful, all right?" He doesn't like to think of Palpatine on his own, either. If there are assassins after the three of them, who’s to say they won’t go after the Chancellor next?

Palpatine chuckles. “Oh, I know I do not look it, but I am always careful, my dear friend.”

Anakin's heart is beating against his ribs. "Thank you," he says. "I want to talk more about this later. Goodbye, Chancellor." He signs off and turns to follow Padmé to the ship.

xix.

They're taking refuge on Phindar. Anakin's never been before and knows very little about it, but he doesn't like it already. The Phindians watch Anakin and Padmé with their brightly-colored eyes as they disembark from the ship. Anakin isn't in the mood for attention.

"I don't see Obi-Wan's ship," he says. Worse, he doesn't sense Obi-Wan. Maybe these people are hostile after all.

Padmé says, “I’m sure he’s hidden it. Let’s find his friend--Obi-Wan is probably there already.” She has a small frown in her expression. Maybe because she’s also worried about Obi-Wan, maybe because there are only a handful of other beings here who aren’t native Phindians. Not necessarily the best place to lay low, is it?

"So how are we supposed to find him?" Anakin demands. He tries to do what Obi-Wan always tells him and school his mind into silence, but it feels impossible. He has too many fears and frustrations competing for his attention.

“I have instructions,” Padmé says. She takes out a datapad and scrolls through. “I have a map,” she says. “We should go this way.”

Anakin frowns. Why would Obi-Wan give it to her and not to him? Does he really distrust Anakin that much? Less likely but more worrying, is he hiding something from both of them, something he knows Anakin would sense?

He follows Padmé silently, feeling eyes on them the whole time. They walk for fifteen or twenty minutes, and then Padmé says, “I think it’s here.” She goes up to a door and knocks. Her shoulders move, like she’s trying to stretch, or shake off an insect. 

"Wait," he says sharply, "Let me go first." He knows she hates it when he does this, but he can't help himself. She's probably not even armed.

To his surprise, she lets him take her place at the door without arguing. That frown is still there.

Before he can ask what she’s thinking, the door opens, and a long-armed Phindian leans out.

“Oh, good!” he says. “You are the friends of Obawan! I have been so excited to meet you! Not so. But for Obawan I will do a favor, very much so! Come in.”

Anakin, taken aback by the Phindian's effusiveness, tries to let himself relax a fraction. "Yes," he says. "I'm Anakin and this is Padmé. Is Obi-Wan here?"

“Come in, come in!” says the Phinian. “I….am Guerra Derida. I can answer any of your questions! Not so. I can answer one of your questions. Maybe more, if you would like to go sightseeing here on beautiful Phindar. Truly a fine planet these days. First come in.” He waves them through the door, and Padmé steps past Anakin to enter the house.

Anakin follows, unhappy and tense again. He wants all of his questions answered. Now. He has a sudden strong memory of when he first met Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and how little patience Obi-Wan had for the creatures Qui-Gon picked up. He tries to make himself believe that now it's Obi-Wan's turn to make him suffer.

"Where is Obi-Wan?" he asks through gritted teeth. He's felt a shadow across his heart since they left Naboo.

“Ah,” says Guerra. “That I do not know. Obawan did not tell me. He did tell me that he would be here as soon as he could. Not to worry. That is, he said ‘not to worry.’ If you would like to worry, you may do that. However, I have known Obawan a looooong long long time, and everything is always all right in the end!”

"So far," Anakin says snappishly. Why would Obi-Wan arrive after them? What else is he doing, and why wouldn't he leave word with more details? "Padmé, did he say anything to you?"

“He told me we would meet here,” she says. 

"Nothing else?" Anakin presses. "Nothing he asked you to keep from me?" He's being paranoid, but he doesn't know how to stop.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Padmé says, but that’s no kind of answer.

Anakin feels a great surge of anger, but there's no one here to take it out on. And he promised Padmé he wouldn't. "I can sense how wrong this is," he says tightly. "Something is happening and he needs me."

“He’s probably just taking a longer route,” she says, with the calm she usually reserves for the Senate.

"What are you hiding?" Anakin asks, painfully aware that they have an audience. "I can sense a disturbance in the Force, Padmé."

“You really should trust Obawan,” Guerra says. “He is very clever, you know. He isn’t just out there getting killed, I’m sure of it! Not so. Perhaps he is getting killed. But I hope not, since he is my very old friend.”

Anakin is temporarily derailed. "How do you know him?" In his experience, Obi-Wan is usually out there getting killed.

“Ahh,” says Guerra says. “When we were both very young, he and I had great adventures. Not so. They were gruelling and terrifying struggles. But in the end, I was freed from the mining colony, and Phindar was freed from the terrible mind-sucking regime that ruled it with a carbonite fist! All thanks to Obawan.”

Anakin smiles despite himself. "That sounds like Obi-Wan," he says. "I'm sorry I'm so angry. I'm just worried about him. Something feels wrong." He watches Padmé out of the corner of his eye for a sign.

Padmé says, “We should trust him, Anakin.” She says it very firmly.

"All right, Anakin says. "Then I guess we should have get comfortable for now." He kisses her forehead. "I just need to clear my head." If it's transparent, she still may not call him out on it.

“Do you need a guide?” Guerra says. “Perhaps you need a guide.”

"I don't need anything," Anakin says shortly. He squeezes Padmé's hand and steps outside. He ducks around the corner to find a quiet alley where he can contact Obi-Wan. He calls him, trying to stop his heart from beating out of his chest.

Surely, if Obi-Wan is taking a long route, or even if he’s been waylaid by some minor danger, he’ll answer. He’s got to answer. He wouldn’t be so caught up in maintaining silence that he would disappear without leaving any way for Anakin to contact him.

But Obi-Wan doesn’t answer.

Anakin tries again, and again. He can't breathe. He has nightmares all the time about losing Padmé, but losing Obi-Wan seemed so impossible he couldn't even think about it while he was asleep.

Eventually, he goes back inside. He has no intention of staying put anymore.

Padmé and Guerra are sitting at the table. They both have steaming cups in front of them, and Padmé is leaning forward while Guerra tells her a story. Neither of them looks up when he enters the room.

"One more chance," Anakin says. "I'm leaving, one way or another. But I'll be back sooner if you can tell me anything that might help me find him."

Padmé turns around then, and her expression slips. 

“He didn’t answer?” she says.

Of course she knew. "He didn't," Anakin says. "This feels very wrong." Obi-Wan would always answer if he could, in case Anakin was in trouble.

Padmé bites her lip, watching Anakin with a worried expression. He can practically see her weighing options in her head; it’s infuriating that telling him the truth isn’t the only option available.

"Please don't be a politician about this," he says, drawing on Obi-Wan's plea.

“I’m not,” she says. “I’m--” She hesitates again, for long seconds. “He didn’t want to hurt you if he was wrong. He thought you wouldn’t forgive him for suggesting it at all, so he went to make sure, one way or the other.”

"What?" Anakin demands. "Padmé, what?" He can't think straight through how hurt he is that Obi-Wan didn't trust him.

She glances at Guerra, who says, “Don’t mind me, no one listens to old Guerra! Not so, but only the niblings, and they think everything is true!”

Padmé nods, then tilts her head up, almost daring Anakin to be angry. “Obi-Wan thinks there’s some chance that Chancellor Palpatine is the Sith lord you’ve been looking for.”

There's a horrible blankness in Anakin's ears, as if he can't hear anything after that. He tries to reassemble his thoughts and finds he can't. "Oh," he says finally. "Of course that's what he thought after we talked." It's not true, but Anakin can see why Obi-Wan would think it.

“Anakin,” Padmé says. “He explained what he thought, and I--I think there’s a chance that he’s right.”

"No," Anakin says, in a very reasonable tone, he thinks. "But I'd hate to think he'd gotten himself in trouble over that."

“Anakin,” Padmé says again. She shuts her eyes. “He was going to find Master Yoda. Wouldn’t he have answered you if that’s what happened?”

"I have to go," Anakin says. He doesn't know what he believes or what he expects to find, but he has to be where Obi-Wan is. He has to sort out this misunderstanding.

Padmé looks like she wants to argue, but she says, “I’m coming with you.”

"It's too dangerous," Anakin says. "Even if there's not a Sith involved."

“If you’re right,” she says, “what possible danger could there be?”

"I don't know," Anakin says unhappily. "I just feel that something terrible is about to happen." Jedi are supposed to be able to sense these things, but Anakin's problem is that he feels it so often that it isn't useful. "It's not Palpatine, though," he says. "And if it was...if it was, Obi-Wan should have said something." Unless Obi-Wan thought something too awful to contemplate. "Why didn't he say anything?" Anakin demands.

“He didn’t want to tell you until he was sure,” Padmé says, and to her, that must not sound like a betrayal.

"If he thinks Palpatine is a Sith," Anakin says, with growing horror and rage, "what does he think I am?"

“What?” says Padmé, and she looks jarred. “I don’t--what do you mean? You’re a Jedi, Anakin.”

"He was accusing me of learning too much from Palpatine," Anakin spits, as the truth of the situation reveals itself to him. "He doesn't trust me any more than he trusts him."

“He was afraid you would think that,” Padmé says. “That doesn’t mean he _does_ believe it! He’s not afraid of you, Anakin, he’s afraid of hurting you!”

“Oh, no, no, I do not want to be involved in this,” Guerra mutters into his cup.

"LIAR!" Anakin shouts. "You saw him on the beach! Of course he's afraid of me! He's jealous that he couldn't teach me, so he has to destroy the person who could!" It all makes sense, in the moment he says it.

“This isn’t fair!” Padmé says. “How is anyone ever supposed to question you, Anakin, if you can’t hear anything you don’t want to hear without blowing up this way? After all this time, why can’t you trust Obi-Wan to have your back? Why can’t you trust him to know what he’s doing?”

"How can I trust someone who doesn't trust me? Who thinks I'm a monster?" Anakin is shaking. "I have to protect the Chancellor."

“Anakin, please!” Padmé says. “Obi-Wan isn’t going there to hurt anybody!”

"Stay here," Anakin says. "I'll be back when it's over." And he leaves before she can try to stop him.

xx.

Obi-Wan’s heart is in his throat from the moment he leaves Naboo, but he’s trained himself calm by the time he reaches Coruscant. Soon he will reach Yoda, and he will need all his wits to explain his conclusions clearly. 

He doesn’t contact anyone en route--doesn’t share any indication of his whereabouts. He doesn’t find Yoda or Master Windu near the Jedi Council chambers, so as discreetly as he can, he makes his way to the Senate building. He’s hurrying down a back hall, empty except for himself, when several figures step out of the shadows. He’s never seen anyone like them before--they’re dressed in red, faces covered.

His senses tell him this isn’t an accident, but he doesn’t know how much trouble he’s in until they attack. He reacts quickly, and downs two of them--one fatally--but at least some (and he has a hard time tracking their numbers) are force users. They separate him from his lightsaber. He thinks he is going to die, but as things go dark, he thinks, _That isn’t it._

~

He wakes up with a pain in his head and the acute desire to leap up and fight. He’s in the outer room of Palpatine’s office, with its dark red decor and breathtaking views. The light is strange; Obi-Wan isn’t sure exactly how much later it is than when he landed, but it’s significantly so. The figures in red are in a half circle around him. His arms are bound behind him. He is on the floor. In front of him, in a chair, sits Chancellor Palpatine.

"Master Kenobi," Palpatine says with all the calm of someone who knows himself to be in complete control of the situation. "Whatever are you doing here?" As if Obi-Wan's presence here is some sort of accident.

“I think you must know,” Obi-Wan says. “Or you wouldn’t have intercepted me. How _did_ you know I was coming?”

Palpatine smiles paternally. Obi-Wan never liked him, but now all the danger signs seem so obvious. "Your friend Skywalker contacted me not long after you'd gone."

Obi-Wan flinches. He should have--no, he shouldn’t have guessed. But he’d _hoped_ \--

“He told you I was coming here?” he says. Had Padmé spilled the secret so easily, as well?

"He told me a lot of things," Palpatine says. "He tells me everything, you see."

Obi-Wan braces himself against the words, says, “I’m sure anyone would tell you more than they should, a leech like yourself.”

Palpatine chuckles. "I must say, Master Kenobi, I never thought you'd be the one to come after me. What have I done that troubles you so?" He nods at the red-clad figures, and they immediately disperse.

Obi-Wan struggles upright, then onto one knee. 

“Plenty, I think,” he says. “If I’m not wrong, then you’re the reason for the worst tumult across the galaxy. It must be--it must be years, now.” He blinks, realizing the depth of it. “You’ve used every living creature to get what you want. And you were here in plain sight.”

"And all it took for you to see me was one conversation with your former apprentice," Palpatine agrees.

“A conversation I should have insisted on much sooner,” Obi-Wan says. He feels the anger lapping at him like a rising tide. He swallows it down, but he wants to scream at Palpatine for daring to come near Anakin. 

He focuses on the bonds on his wrists and tries not to give Palpatine anything he doesn’t already have.

"But you didn't," Palpatine says. "Which is why he ceased to be _your_ apprentice years ago." And before Obi-Wan can react, he shoots a thin jet of lightning from his fingertips at Obi-Wan's face.

Obi-Wan shouts in anger and then in pain. The force of it knocks him onto his back and he lies gasping. _Get free, get free,_ his mind pesters him, but he can’t get gather his thoughts enough to do anything.

"If you're wondering how long," Palpatine says, "a long time." He stands and walks to Obi-Wan. "Longer than you think."

Obi-Wan doesn’t know whether he means the political machinations or Anakin. Unwilling to just lie here, he forces himself back onto his elbows. He says, “Others will notice. It won’t just be me. And they’ll wrench the galaxy right out of your grasp.” He doesn’t say a thing about Anakin. He knows that the more Palpatine says about him, the more he’ll twist Obi-Wan’s feelings. Obi-Wan can’t allow that. He won’t allow it. 

Palpatine ignores him. Either he's a good faker or he's not at all concerned about losing. He gives Obi-Wan a few more jolts of electricity, uneven enough that Obi-Wan can't sense them coming.

"Master Kenobi...there is no one coming to help you. Anakin is utterly mine."

“He’s not!” Obi-Wan spits back, unable to stop himself. “He’s no one’s! He’s the Jedi Order’s!” His voice is ragged. He shakes as he lifts himself off the floor. _Get free,_ he tells himself, trying to focus, trying to feel his way loose. Don’t think about Anakin. Don’t let let him distract you. Don’t—

His lightsaber, resting on the desk, shoots towards his hand, and his hands break free of their shackles.

But Palpatine is faster than he has any right to be, and his lightsaber is suddenly glowing red and slicing down through the air. It cuts the handle of Obi-Wan's lightsaber in half, centimeters from his fingertips. Palpatine kicks the pieces away in disgust.

"The Jedi Order," he says, "is finished. Try something like that again and it won't be your lightsaber I cut in half." He reaches out and Obi-Wan thinks he's going to shock him again, but instead the Chancellor makes a squeezing motion, and Obi-Wan finds his breath cut off.

He can’t even gasp. He clutches at his throat for a moment out of instinct before he can force himself to stop, to throw himself at Palpatine even while he knows it won’t do any good.

Palpatine makes a dismissive gesture and flings Obi-Wan against the wall. The pressure on his throat is lifted.

"He told me all about how much you care for him," Palpatine says. "But also about your jealousy. Your inadequacy. When Anakin and I rule together, it will be partly thanks to you."

Obi-Wan pushes himself upright with a burst of motion, hands pressed against the wall. He feels Palpatine’s words clawing their way into him. He can understand, much too well, how Anakin was sucked in by this. He can imagine Palpatine’s silver tongue turned against Obi-Wan, stroking Anakin’s ego and his fears.

“Anakin won’t do that!” he shouts. “Anakin is better than you, he’s better than any of us!” As alarmed as he’s been by some of Anakin’s behavior in the last few months, he still means it. He just means it cut with desperation, because maybe Palpatine is right. Maybe--no. No. Palpatine will never keep Anakin on his side if he kills Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can’t believe that.

"Yes," Palpatine says. "He is good, isn't he? It's why he's always desperate to protect the people he loves from harm. And that includes me."

Obi-Wan is practically blind with rage. He hasn’t been so angry since Qui-Gon died--he didn’t know he would ever feel so angry again. “I wouldn’t be so quick to assume that it’s you he’ll protect,” he says, voice shaking. “He isn’t stupid. And _I_ figured you out, Sith--so will he.”

"You don't know his fears," Palpatine says. "You don't know his desires. You don't know what I can promise him. I already have him convinced Sith aren't so bad." And he unleashes a storm of lightning so great that Obi-Wan thinks it will never end.

He knows that he’s screaming but he can’t hear the difference between that and the lightning. Every part of him is raw and searing, and he can’t think at all. He can’t feel the difference between terror and pain. A small part of him--so very small--clings to the thought of Anakin, but he doesn’t know if it’s hope or dread, if he wants Anakin to find him or stay far away on Phindar until someone else has the chance to take Palpatine down. Surely Jedi will sense this. A hopeless part of him that he never entertains thinks, _No one will._

When it ends, he is boneless and sobbing.

Palpatine is very close, standing over him. "You've failed, Master Kenobi. You lost your chosen one to me, with your weakness and your fumbling. The galaxy will know a new master soon. And Anakin will forget you in time. He's already so far beyond you." He tilts his head, as if something is funny. "Still...Let me leave you with at least one thing in common." Obi-Wan has just time to hear the the sound of the lightsaber igniting before it comes down on his left wrist.

Obi-Wan barely has the voice to scream anymore. It comes out as a hoarse wail instead. He clutches his arm to his body, struggling for breath, and says, “You can’t have him, Palpatine! You can’t!” His face feels hot and wet, tears running into his beard, but he refuses to look away from the Chancellor. He refuses to look at the hand on the floor. He’s about to die, but he won’t give in on this. “He won’t go with you!”

"In his heart, he already has," Palpatine says. "He is going to come to me, and I am going to claim him."

 

xx.

Anakin doesn't become less angry on the flight to Coruscant. If anything, his anger has time to kindle and burn on the thoughts of every time Obi-Wan hasn't trusted him. Of course Obi-Wan is jealous of Anakin. Of course Obi-Wan is jealous of Palpatine. Palpatine saw that years ago. Of course Obi-Wan is going behind Anakin's back and treating him like a little child, or worse, like an enemy. It's hard to understand the point of doing the right thing if Obi-Wan won't believe him.

And now Obi-Wan is going to hurt the Chancellor, the only person who _does_ trust Anakin.

Anakin arrives on Coruscant in a towering, flaming rage, lightsaber clenched in his fist. He practically runs to find Palpatine, his breath short, his heart racing.

When he does, it’s all of his worst fears realized.

Palpatine is in the outer room of his offices, reclining in his chair. His private guard are there, but not as many as Anakin has sometimes seen. One of them seems to be attending to the Chancellor, who is pale and sweating. When Anakin comes into the room, the Chancellor jumps, and then says, “Oh! Oh--Anakin. It’s you. I’m so glad--so glad to see you.”

Anakin is caught by a desire to kneel, so he does. "Chancellor," he says. "Are you all right?"

“You arrived just in time,” Palpatine says, in a voice weaker than Anakin has ever heard. “Master Kenobi--he--he accused me of such things. I tried to explain, but he attacked.”

Anakin gets to his feet quickly. It's not the Jedi way, but it matches all of his paranoid imaginings. "He tried to kill you?"

“He thinks I’m a monster,” Palpatine says. He puts his hand on Anakin’s arm. “He called me a Sith lord. He thinks all that I’ve done for the republic is a _ruse_! I couldn’t make him believe me when I denied it!”

"He was panicking, before," Anakin says blankly. He's so angry. "Why would he think that about you? It can't just be the lightning…"

“I have no idea!” Palpatine says, shaking his head. There’s fear in his eyes when they meet Anakin’s. “He and I have never gotten along, but I had--no idea…”

"Shh, it's all right," Anakin says. "I won't let him hurt you. I don't know what he's thinking." Did he drive Obi-Wan to this? Even so, there's no excuse. "Where is he now?"

“Oh!” Palpatine exclaims, and gives a nervous laugh. “Your timing is--he’s still only there, in the next room. With some of my guard. Please, Anakin, understand, they had to fight back. I couldn’t bear to kill him, but they had to fight back.”

Anakin fights the sick feeling in his stomach. "He's hurt? Badly? I should see him." Either way, he has to see Obi-Wan. He has to make him understand that this is insane.

“Wait,” Palpatine says, squeezing his wrist. “Anakin--did you know he felt this way? Did he try to drag you into this plot?”

"No," Anakin says distantly. His ears are ringing. He feels hot all over with fury. "No, he didn't trust me enough to tell me. I think he believes I could be a Sith, too."

“He knows you’re more powerful than any Jedi,” Palpatine says, shaking his head. He sits up, hand still a vise on Anakin’s arm. “But that’s all he knows. Ignorance! The Sith are dangerous? It’s as I’ve feared all along. The Jedi are where true danger lies. It would be better for the galaxy if you _were_ a Sith, my boy, than that you lend your power to _them_ any longer.”

Anakin wavers, off balance with rage and fear. "Maybe you're right. All I know of the Sith comes from the Jedi." But behind all the rage, he realizes he still doesn't know how badly Obi-Wan is hurt. "I want to see him," he says. “I can make him understand."

Palpatine stands, suddenly. “Anakin! I won’t stop you, but I won’t let you go in alone, either. You ought to have someone on your side.”

"Even if he attacks you again?" Anakin asks. The Chancellor is brave. Far braver than most Jedi. "Don't worry, I'll protect you if he does." He takes out his lightsaber and weighs it in his hand, feeling unreal and ill.

The Chancellor smiles stiffly. “I believe that you will. Then let’s go.” He moves towards the door to his inner office. His guard shuffle silently in around them. 

The door is not half open before there’s a terrible noise, and it’s not until the noise has ended that Anakin understands that it was his own name, being screamed.

“Get away from him!” comes a strangled voice, and Anakin sees Obi-Wan. He’s seated against the wall with his knees up, arms clutched together behind them. Three of the red-robed guards stand over him. “Get away from him, Palpatine!” Obi-Wan says, in a shaking, rasping voice. “Anakin, you must run! You must find Master Yoda!” 

He looks both small and wild.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin says. Whatever he expected, it wasn't this. This isn't the Obi-Wan in his mind, condescending and chiding.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi,” Palpatine says in a firm, apologetic voice. It’s soft to begin, but it gains confidence. “But I can’t let you go until I’m assured that your council aren’t _all_ planning to commit treason. And young Skywalker can’t possibly follow you where you’ve chosen to go.”

Obi-Wan looks sickly furious--he makes a small movement, then gasps in pain and doubles over.

“I’m sorry,” Palpatine says more gently to Anakin. “My guard had no choice.”

“Your guard,” gasps Obi-Wan. “Anakin, please.” He looks at Anakin like he’s about to fall and thinks Anakin will catch him.

"Master," Anakin is caught, fascinated. He takes a few steps toward Obi-Wan to get a better look. Something isn't right. But none of this is right, and he can't think.

“He’s afraid because he’s been found out,” Palpatine says. “He’s afraid because he was assigned to kill me and he failed, and now the entire Jedi order will have to pay. They’ve been plotting without you, Anakin. That is why they haven’t wanted to make you a Jedi Master. They’ve been afraid to let you in on their secrets, because they know you are loyal to the Republic. Loyal to me.” His voice is laced with sorrow. “I cannot tell you how deeply I feel for you--for this betrayal,” he says. “But I cannot hide it from you--it’s all true.”

It makes sense. It all fits with Anakin's fears, which have been growing over the years he's been a Jedi--over the years he's discussed them with Palpatine. But what doesn't fit is Obi-Wan, sitting in front of him, warm and real and frightened, telling Anakin to be safe.

"Is this true?" he asks. He comes to stand over Obi-Wan.

“What lie can you possibly tell him, Jedi?” Palpatine says gently. 

Obi-Wan shudders and says, “Anakin, don’t let him turn you. Please. Please. You’re better than any of us.”

“He knows that!” Palpatine snaps. “He knows he’s better than a band of sanctimonious old fanatics who label as evil anything they can’t understand. Which is a _great...deal.”_ He sighs. “That, Jedi, is why he will stay with me, as one of the Sith. He will never be lied to here. He will never be treated as less than he is.”

Anakin hears the words but doesn't really process them. He's looking down at Obi-Wan's arm, the one that's cradled in the other. No blood. This was done with a lightsaber. _He will stay with me, as one of the Sith._ Somewhere inside him, the two ideas tangle together: A Sith. And: He is being claimed by someone.

"He did this?" he asks Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan nods. His face is pain-pale, and his eyes are locked on Anakin’s.

“I told you, I had no choice,” Palpatine says gravely. Now, of course, Anakin sees the hand--Obi-Wan’s familiar hand--lying on the floor, separated from his body by several meters.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says in a hoarse whisper. Anakin has made him hoarse before, but he’s never sounded like this.

Anakin kneels, for the second time today, this time by Obi-Wan's side. He can feel the rage that's been burning inside him start to spill over. He ignites his lightsaber.

Obi-Wan blinks at the light, but he doesn’t flinch back.

“Anakin,” Palpatine says. “My apprentice. They’ve told you all along that anger is a crutch; it isn’t. It’s your power. _Use_ it. The galaxy needs us both at the height of our strength.”

Obi-Wan is still meeting Anakin’s eyes with his own fever-bright ones. Afraid, Anakin thinks. But not afraid of him.

"Oh," Anakin says. He can see it all, the path before him. He _will_ have power. But he won't be able to protect Obi-Wan, and next time, it will be him Obi-Wan is afraid of. He gets to his feet slowly, lightsaber in hand, blind with anger. It's not a crutch. He could strike Palpatine down now and nothing could ever touch him again.

He can hear Obi-Wan telling him, _Anger is a terrible thing. But you’re bigger than it is. And I know your heart._

Between one heartbeat and another, he flicks his lightsaber off. He reaches out with the force and slams Palpatine against his guards, scattering them all to the ground. Then he grabs Obi-Wan's uninjured arm and hauls him to his feet.

A horrible noise comes out of Obi-Wan’s throat, and Anakin hears him swallow it. 

“Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan says through chattering teeth. “You m-must--”

"I'm not leaving you," Anakin says thickly. He realizes he's crying with rage and distress. "I'll carry you out of here, but I don't dare take my eyes off him." He tries to harness the calm it would take to strike Palpatine down without anger, but all he can find is the deeply personal sense of betrayal.

Obi-Wan is opening his mouth to speak, and Palpatine and his guards are rising to their feet. Palpatine is raising his hand. 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan shouts, and throws himself forward.

Anakin shouts and leaps across the distance between himself and Palpatine and lands with his lightsaber to Palpatine's throat. He hears Obi-Wan collide with something, then someone’s shout of pain before Palpatine cries, “WAIT!”

The guards freeze. 

Palpatine hisses, “Why would you ever choose him over me, my boy? All he’s ever done is underestimate you. Resent you. Use you. I’ve been waiting so long to give you everything. I’d never take the life of someone you love so dearly--but don’t throw yourself away on a dying cause for jealous martyrs.”

Anakin can feel himself getting angry again, and he knows that's what Palpatine wants. "Master," he says through gritted teeth. "I--I don't think I can handle him. We need to go." It's not the kind of thing he's ever admitted before. He's supposed to be able to do anything.

Before Obi-Wan can answer, a horrible shock spears Anakin through the middle, and he’s thrown across the room. His lightsaber goes spinning away.

“Is that really your choice, then?” Palpatine says. 

Suddenly, there is no choice. There's just Obi-Wan, injured, and Palpatine, ready to fight. Anakin clears his mind and reaches for his lightsaber.

"You're not my master," he says. He ignores his lightsaber again as soon as it's back in his hand. Taking a breath and willing the pain and anger away, he goes for Palpatine.

The guards move as one. Something crashes behind him. His head turns just an inch, but Obi-Wan pants, “I’ve got this, s-stay on the Chancellor!” The guards, all five of them, are rushing to where Obi-Wan is, but Palpatine’s hands are raised. Sparks shoot from one, and a lightsaber ignites red in the other.

Anakin doesn't have the time or the training to do this well, but he will at least do it _right_. He gathers the Force, devoid of anger or distraction, and sends his own jet of sparks toward Palpatine. They're bigger and more impressive than anything Palpatine has seen him do, and they send him staggering off balance.

“Whelp!” Palpatine says. “I’ve been fully grown in the ways of the Sith since before you were conceived!” He swings his lightsaber down towards Anakin’s head.

Anakin blocks him, trying not to be distracted by the idea of Obi-Wan dealing with five guards at once—five guards who have kept him cornered for Anakin doesn’t know how long. "You can't kill me. Whether or not I'm the chosen one, I have the power of the Jedi behind me." These are words he doesn't always believe, but he says them as he swings his lightsaber, blocking and slashing. He can feel himself connected to Obi-Wan, to Padmé, to the Force. Palpatine is fast, but Anakin is faster.

“ _No!”_ Palpatine snarls. “You were supposed to be _mine.”_ He jabs, and behind them, Anakin hears Obi-Wan cry out.

Then the door bursts open. Palpatine’s lightsaber extinguishes and he drops it in an instant. 

“Help me!” he cries. “Help me, Master Windu! Master Yoda!”

Anakin whirls. In an instant, he realizes that the two people who trust him in the least can see him committing what looks like treason. "Masters," he says quickly. "He's a--"

"I can feel it," Master Windu says. He sounds furious. "And he'll answer for how this was hidden from us."

“Answer?” says Palpatine, in a completely different voice. “To you? I think not, Jedi. No, no--never to you.” His lightsaber is back in his hand, and he swings it viciously. Anakin only just ducks before it strikes his neck. Master Windu blocks the blow--and then Palpatine collapses. The heavy statuette that has struck him gently settles back into its usual resting place.

Master Yoda says, “Sometimes the simplest solution is the best, hm? Drop your weapons, you will,” he adds to the red guard, and they obey. Anakin doesn't understand why until, in his peripheral vision, a mass of guards--regular ones--and Jedi stream into the room. Anakin can’t stop staring at Palpatine’s prone body.

“Master Kenobi,” says Master Windu, and it takes Anakin a moment of silence to realize that it’s not a greeting, but an observation. Obi-Wan is slumped on the floor, unmoving.

Anakin tosses his lightsaber aside and runs to him, skidding to stop on his knees next to Obi-Wan's body. "Wake up," he says, furiously wiping his eyes. "Master. Wake up, I'll get you help." He looks up at the others. "Somebody get a med droid!"

“Right,” says Master Windu, and Anakin hears him snap instructions. 

Anakin waits until the stretcher arrives. When it does, he follows Obi-Wan out of the room, only looking back at Palpatine once.

xxi.

Obi-Wan wakes up to the smell before anything else. It’s the smell of sterility and medicine, and it makes him instinctively anxious to rouse himself and get away from here. He doesn’t like hospitals. 

The second thing he’s aware of, before he opens his eyes, is the low thrum of pain crawling through his body. It’s worse on one side--worse, and somehow different--but he hurts everywhere. He feels burned.

He’s considering that, in a foggy, distant way, and then everything focuses and his eyes shoot open, because Palpatine is the Sith and Anakin is here, and Anakin, Anakin--

“ _Anakin!”_ He jerks upright and then falls back hard, skin singing with pain. He hears how hoarse his voice sounds, sees lights and medical droids, and Padmé. Oh.

“Padmé?” he says. He doesn’t try to sit up this time.

"Easy," she says, pressing her palm to his forehead. "Don't move. You've got a lot of recovering to do." She looks at him more closely. "Anakin is all right," she says.

Obi-Wan opens his mouth to ask her for more than that, anything more than that, but a medical droid rolls up to his bedside and interrupts.

“Master Kenobi,” it says. “Please excuse me while I check your vital signs.”

“Yes, of course,” he says automatically. While it fusses, he says, “Could you tell me what’s wrong with me? I feel awful.”

“We will adjust your pain medication,” the droid says. “You have suffered moderate burns, the loss of your left hand, and a minor heart attack.”

It’s like being dropped into deep water from a great height. 

“Oh,” he says. “Is that all.”

“No,” says the droid. “You have minor cuts and abrasions, and a concussion caused by blunt force trauma to the back of your head.”

“That really sounds like enough,” he says, with something like horror.

Padmé waves the droid away impatiently, and it rolls off in a huff. "I'm sorry," she says. "That probably wasn't the best way to hear all of that. Obi-Wan, you saved us all. Not that you didn't also cause us a fairly extensive headache." She smiles down at him, and he notices that her normally pink face is very pale.

He wants to reassure her, and he _will_ , only--he looks down, just for a second. There’s no prosthetic yet, just a bandage and a place where he stops. He wants to laugh, or something like laughing that’s much, much worse. 

_Anakin’s lost more than you have,_ he tells himself, but Anakin cried, didn’t he? Obi-Wan doesn’t--he swallows it down for now and says, quietly, “Palpatine?”

Padmé hesitates. "He's--alive. Being dealt with. The Jedi have him. The situation has become very, very politically complicated. You see, he'd got enough of the Senate on his side that people are questioning exactly why the Jedi were going after him. It's a mess. But not a mess you have to worry about right now."

“Never too soon to worry,” Obi-Wan suggests with a quick smile. He doesn’t feel like smiling. “How long--has it been very long?”

"About a day and a half," Padmé says. "Long enough for me to catch up with you." She smooths back his hair. Her hands are cool and soft.

“He left you behind?”

"Don't be angry," Padmé says. Nothing in her voice betrays whether or not she is. "He was very upset. He fled to Coruscant to confront you. But your friend's brother, Paxxi, he made sure I was right behind." She pauses, not looking at Obi-Wan. "I was afraid I'd come too late."

Obi-Wan grabs her hand and squeezes it tightly, and thinks, from a numb distance, _That’s the only one I can do that with._ He says, “I was safe once Anakin found me. I was safe with Anakin.”

"I'm glad," she says. It's as if she's afraid to say more. "Nobody will tell me exactly what happened."

Obi-Wan’s mind goes blank. Hours vanish from his recollection. “What did you want to know?”

"It doesn't matter right now," Padmé says firmly. "You've just woken up. You're more behind than I am." She pauses. "Oh," she says. "It seems silly, after all this, but I keep thinking about the assassination attempts."

For a second, Obi-Wan doesn’t even know what she’s talking about.

“Oh, no, is that still happening?” he asks weakly. “Am I going to die here after all that?”

"It's not happening," Padmé says slowly. "I don't think it will anymore, do you?"

Obi-Wan absorbs this. “What was the point?” he says. “Why would he target us, if he wanted--?” The first shadow of understanding curls around his thoughts.

"I can see why he would have wanted to get rid of me," Padmé says. "And you. As for Anakin--I've been wondering about it. Maybe it was a test. A test designed for him to pass, but if he failed, well, he wasn't worth cultivating anyway." She shivers. "It's awful."

Obi-Wan imagines what Anakin would do if he and Padmé were both killed. He imagines, differently, what Anakin would do if a Sith--someone he trusted--were there to stir up his fury first. His stomach clenches.

“Not just ridding himself of an inconvenience,” he says. “We would have been--tools. Tools, to make Anakin turn.”

"He had to deprive Anakin of everyone else," Padmé says softly. She sounds very, very angry.

Obi-Wan has to swallow down the nausea of his headache before he can be any use to her. But slowly, slowly, he reaches over his body to take her hand again, in his remaining one.

“He didn’t win, Padmé,” he says. “And even if he got free and wreaked havoc now, Anakin sees him clearly. Palpatine will never have him.”

"Thanks to us," Padmé says, lifting her chin. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be here and get you all worked up."

“I’m glad to see you,” he says--not firmly, but sincerely. “And I’ll be glad to see Anakin, and he only ever...gets me worked up. Is he...where is he?”

"He'll be back before long. I made him go and get some sleep."

Obi-Wan’s heart shivers in his chest, and he thinks, _minor heart attack_ and feels silly and sick at the same time. He says, “He was so good, Padmé, I remember that part. He was so good, and I was so proud.”

Padmé's expression clears. "I wasn't sure," she says. "He's been acting so ashamed. I knew it couldn't be that bad, because I know he helped capture the Chancellor, but...Oh, I'm glad."

“I knew….he’d be angry,” Obi-Wan says, suddenly very tired. “Of course he would be. But...he did everything right anyway.” He wishes Anakin were here, where Obi-Wan could see him and touch him and know everything was really all right. He wants to say so many things. Or nothing. It could be nothing, if Anakin were just--but he’s being stupid.

“Thank you for coming after us,” he says. His hand and Padmé’s are still linked, with warmth between them.

"I'd do anything to protect you," Padmé says fiercely. "Both of you. I may still have to. But things _will_ go my way with the Senate." Obi-Wan can see the iron will that quickly made her someone Palpatine couldn't manipulate.

“I have faith,” he says. He can’t quite work up the energy to worry about politics, as likely as they are to trap him soon enough. “Endless faith, in you.” 

"Good," she says. "Oh, Obi-Wan." She squeezes his hand. "You were so brave. I'm so sorry you were hurt." She leans in and kisses his forehead carefully.

“Oh, don’t do that here,” he says weakly. “You don’t want--people talking.”

"That's the least of my worries," Padmé says. "Anyway, I'm sure the Jedi will let you and Anakin get away with anything now. Especially you." She pulls her chair close and sits, taking his hand again.

“Hah!” he says. Barely a puff of air. Pathetic, but he can’t quite muster anything more. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I think I’m--”

The medical droid rolls up again and says, “You! You! Master Kenobi needs sleep. If you are going to sit there, you can’t talk to him anymore!”

Obi-Wan is already drifting off.

 

xxii.

Padmé waits until Obi-Wan is soundly asleep and then calls Anakin at home. 

“He’s asleep,” she says to Anakin’s own sleep-creased face. “But he was awake. I’m sorry, it wasn’t long enough that I had time to get you.”

"It's all right," Anakin says thickly. "It's better for him to sleep." He looks pained, as he has for the past two days when he talks about Obi-Wan. "How is he?"

“You mean aside from the litany of injuries?” she says. She shakes her head. “He really wasn’t awake long. _He_ wouldn’t tell me what happened, either. Except one thing--he said you did everything right, and he’s proud of you.”

Anakin's face twists into something even more pained. "Oh," he says. "He said that?" He clears his throat and shakes his hair out. "Padmé, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been avoiding you. And I shouldn't have run away, on Phindar."

“No,” she agrees. “You should have listened to me. You should have trusted Obi-Wan.” 

"I lost my mind," Anakin agrees. "I know it's not an excuse. I swear I didn't do anything horrible. I only thought of it."

“Anakin…” she says. “What _did_ happen? You’ve barely looked at me since I arrived, you know.”

Anakin takes a drink of something and swallows hard. "I came in furious with Obi-Wan. Then I realized what was happening, and I--It wasn't any better. It was almost worse. I was still angry, except I was about to--to kill Palpatine."

Padmé is not always clear on the thin lines of distinction between what is and is not acceptable to the Jedi--what counts as necessity, and what makes you _evil_. She thinks maybe Jedi aren’t completely right about it, anyway. But that’s not an argument to bring up just now. She says, “You didn’t.”

"I didn't," Anakin says. "Because Obi-Wan was there and he trusted me. I think…" He rubs his his eyes. "I was wrong. I'm not done learning from him."

Padmé smiles. “You don’t want them to make you a Jedi Master for this?”

"I don't think they've even decided if they want to kick me out of the Order," Anakin says unhappily. "Palpatine told them a lot about me."

“Like what?” she says. She wants to stop the conversation and rush home and pick it up again when she can have him in her arms, but she thinks, maybe, that the distance is helping him to answer her questions.

"He was trying to turn me," Anakin says. It sounds like every word is being wrenched out of him against his will. "For years. And he didn't do a bad job. You see why they wouldn't trust me."

“Not trust you?” she says. “When the most powerful Sith in the galaxy tried to lure you in for years and you said _no?_ When you helped save the Jedi from extinction? When you saved Obi-Wan's life?”

"Some of them have never liked me." He's said things like this before, and he always sounded sullen and petty. Now he just sounds tired. "It's all right. They like Obi-Wan enough that I think I'll be fine. I just can't believe how stupid I was."

“Oh, my love,” she says. “He fooled everyone. He got all of us in the palm of his hand.” She wants to say more, about how Anakin is singularly vulnerable, because he’s different, because he’s talented and young and full of hunger and anger from a childhood he’ll never recover from. She wants to tell him these things because it means that, in part, this isn’t his fault. But she doesn’t think he’d thank her for making him face how much of this situation was pure exploitation.

Maybe Obi-Wan will say it.

"We were so close to failing," he says wonderingly. "I almost lost Obi-Wan. Are you sure he's not awake?"

“I can go back and check,” she says. “You can come back and wait. I think he’ll be in and out more, now that he’s woken up once.”

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep again," Anakin says. "I did, though. When you told me to." He gives her a deeply wounded, hungry look. "I need to come see you so I can hold you."

Padmé is breathless, for a moment. There’s so much starving life in that look that it makes her realize, in a rush, that Palpatine could have killed them both. He could have killed Obi-Wan and Anakin, or made Anakin into something unrecognizable. Palpatine could be ruling everything, right now, and the two people Padmé loves most in the whole galaxy would be gone.

“I’d like that, please,” she says, suddenly fighting not to cry.

"I'll be there in five minutes," Anakin says. That's quite a promise, and it will probably have to involve breaking traffic laws. He's still himself, then. And he's coming to her.

 

xxiii.

True to his word, Anakin arrives at the hospital in just under five minutes. He feels awful, having been jolted out of sleep by Padmé's call. He feels worse when he sees Padmé.

She looks as tired as he does, and she's not hiding it anymore. Not caring who may be lurking in the hospital hallways, he rushes to hug her.

She hugs him back with the sigh of relief that always escapes her when he finds her like this, no matter how worried she usually is about being caught.

“You were fast,” she says.

"I told you," he says, muffled by her hair. "You tricked me into resting, but you haven't. Go home. The bed will still be warm."

“A few minutes,” she promises. “Then I have work to do.” She lays her hand on his face for a moment, and then turns to go.

"I love you," he calls after her. There's very little to lose now, or at least it feels that way.

She laughs and waves her hand before disappearing around the corner.

His spirits slightly buoyed, Anakin makes his way to Obi-Wan's room. Every time he looks at Obi-Wan unconscious--sleeping?-- he feels sick. This isn't right. And it's mostly his fault. He sits next to the bed and whispers, "Master?"

Obi-Wan blinks and opens his eyes in Anakin’s direction. A look of relief as clear as Padmé’s sigh appears on his tired face.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin says, forgetting for a second how wretched he feels. "You're awake! I didn't really believe it until I saw you. How do you feel?" Maybe, he realizes, Obi-Wan won't want to talk to him at all. But Padmé said he wasn't angry.

“In all honesty,” Obi-Wan says in a quiet voice. “Awful. Is Padmé gone?”

"I made her go and rest," Anakin says. "Obi-Wan, I--I'm sorry." It doesn't sound like enough. Obi-Wan is still speaking to him, but what next? Anakin's put a lot of thought into what his stupidity is going to ruin for him.

“What for?” Obi-Wan says. Anakin can’t tell if he’s uncertain or just testing him.

"For trusting Palpatine instead of you," Anakin says. "For years." He doesn't know if that's the right answer, but it's the truth.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan says. “I didn’t realize it was quite that bad.” 

"I hid it," Anakin says unhappily. "And I didn't know. Obi-Wan, I swear I didn't know what he was." Maybe it won't matter that it was blindness instead of malice.

“I’m glad,” Obi-Wan says. It doesn’t sound trite or bitter. 

Anakin doesn't want to talk too much and make Obi-Wan sicker, but there are some things he can't leave unsaid. "You don't have to worry," he says. "I understand now. I can see why I'm not a Master."

Obi-Wan doesn’t answer, just eyes Anakin until Anakin feels like he has to cough up more.

"It's what you always say," Anakin says. "I don't think. I don't even stop to sense what's happening. I just _feel_. I...think I might need more training. By whoever's still willing."

“Oh?” Obi-Wan says. “Are you saying I’m not up to the task?” He smiles. “I suppose you want someone who will appreciate your abilities; I don’t think I’ll be asking to see much of your lightning anytime soon.”

"Master," Anakin says, his voice breaking. "I'm not ever going to do that again." It may be a stupid thing to promise, but in the moment, the idea of his lightning and Obi-Wan's heart both make him feel sick.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says gently. 

"I mean it," he says. "I didn't realize what kind of person you have to be to use those powers."

“A different kind than you,” Obi-Wan says. He doesn’t seem angry at Anakin at all. It doesn’t make sense.

"That could have been me," Anakin says, very slowly, in case that helps Obi-Wan understand. "I could have gone with him and then it could have been me." It's far too easy to imagine that future.

“I know,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m not denying that, I promise.”

"So I don't want to play with anything that could get me close to that again," Anakin says. The whole shape of his future feels as if it's changed. There are a lot of things he doesn't want now.

“You sound angry,” Obi-Wan says.

Again, Anakin is horrified. "I don't want to be angry. I don't want to use the lighting. I don't want to do anything else dangerous."

“At yourself,” Obi-Wan says. His voice is so quiet. “Angry at yourself. Let it go, Anakin.”

Anakin takes a shaky breath. "I nearly got you killed. I'm the reason you lost your hand. If you'd been able to trust me, we would have gone in together."

Obi-Wan is silent for a long moment which feels like judgment. Then he says, “I understand your feelings. But I am proud of you, Anakin. What determines your fate isn’t your doubts and anger, it’s what—you do with them. You overcame your anger. You did well. And I’m very grateful that you came after me, in—a rage or not.” He’s very pale by the end of this, but he won’t let go of Anakin’s gaze.

Anakin bows his head, eyes hot. He squeezes them shut and cries on Obi-Wan's bedspread until he's able to collect himself. Finally he says, "You're supposed to be resting. I just had to see how bad things were."

“Not wonderful,” Obi-Wan says. “But don’t be—too alarmed. They have me on some terrible pain medication and it’s wrecking me. Just awful.” He looks anxious, though, just enough that Anakin can see it. 

"You're going to be all right," Anakin says, trying to sound confident rather than pleading. "Padmé and I will nurse you back to health." When he says it, it does sound true.

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes and smiles. “I shouldn’t be a baby about it,” he says, nodding towards his arm. “You’ve had worse.” 

"And I was just awful," Anakin says. "You're entitled to at least another week of uselessness. I'm sure you'll milk it." What he's really sure of is that Obi-Wan will be up in two days, trying to work himself into the ground.

“I’d rather get out of this horrible place,” says Obi-Wan wistfully. “But the droids probably won’t let me go. Do you think I could milk it elsewhere?”

"Soon," Anakin says. "The Council is going to give you whatever you want for the rest of your life, I think." They're embarrassed by not having realized what Obi-Wan did, but most of them are grateful enough not to let that translate into bitterness.

“Oh—no,” Obi-Wan says. “That’s—it was only a hunch.”

"Don't be modest," Anakin says. "He was right under everyone's noses. Nobody else even had a hunch." Maybe if he keeps saying that, he'll eventually believe he wasn't the only incredibly gullible person in the galaxy. He's still trying to stop feeling that he's lost a parent.

Obi-Wan frowns. He says, “I’m sorry I was right. Even if I was jealous—I’d rather it hadn’t been this way.”

Anakin has been obsessively going over every single interaction with Palpatine, burning the horror and embarrassment into his memory. "He would have had me," he says quietly. "Another year, maybe, and you know he would."

Obi-Wan nods. “Maybe,” he says. “Maybe not. But he doesn’t have you. And I’m sorry I can’t be him, Anakin, or what he was to you, but you still—have me.”

"I only want you," Anakin says, and it comes out so sharp and needy that he wants to choke on it. He grabs Obi-Wan's hand and presses a kiss to his palm. "You and Padmé. That's enough."

Obi-Wan smiles. “Look at us—breaking rules left and right. Padmé thinks they won’t care anymore, but I—” He takes a deep breath and doesn’t say anything else.

"I don't know," Anakin says. "I don't know anything. Things are still up in the air, and it's all politics. Get some sleep and don't think about it." He doesn't know if anything will be better, or maybe worse, on the other side of this upheaval, but he trusts Padmé.

Obi-Wan, uncharacteristically, nods and shuts his eyes. “The droid said I had a heart attack,” he says. “Imagine that. Ridiculous. What kind of idiot.” He sounds half asleep already.

Anakin holds Obi-Wan's hand and tries not to squeeze. Once he's asleep, Anakin puts his head down on the bed and goes to sleep too, before the droid can kick him out.

xxiv.

They ask to see Anakin alone first, while Obi-Wan waits outside the chamber.

Anakin isn't afraid anymore. He's not angry, either. He's already made all the mistakes he was going to make with Palpatine, and he won't be able to change the Council's minds. He never could.

He comes in and bows deeply. If he's going to be cast out of the Jedi Order, he's going to at least act like a Jedi until it happens.

“Anakin,” says Master Windu. “We certainly are seeing a lot of each other recently, aren’t we? I suppose you’d like to know where all these meetings are going to lead.”

"Yes, Master," Anakin says, more passively that he feels. He schools himself to be patient and wait, instead of jumping in to offer information or explanations.

“Hmm,” Master Yoda says. “Showing more than your usual patience, I see. Learned something, perhaps, from recent events?”

"More than one thing," Anakin says. He knows he should be quiet and wait, but he can't help adding, "I know I'm complicit in what he did."

“Which thing in particular?” Master Windu prompts.

"I should have seen what he was," Anakin says. "I was closer with him than anyone. I could have seen, and stopped him. But I think I didn't want to." There's no point in trying to make himself look better. If they want him gone, they have reason enough.

“He appealed to your weakness,” Yoda says. “He appealed to your impatience. Your self-importance.”

It hurts, but Anakin tries to hear it the way Obi-Wan would mean it. As a lesson. "Yes," he says. "The Dark Side is good at understanding people's weaknesses." He swallows down any excuses--that he was young, that half of what Palpatine said was true.

“Perhaps also your loss,” Yoda adds. “But you had others who cared for you, did you not? You could have turned to them. Perhaps less delicate with your vanity, they were.”

"Yes," Anakin says bitterly. "And--" He shouldn't say it, but he has to. "And Palpatine encouraged me to love. Something I was very angry with the Jedi for forbidding."

Master Windu says, “And what exactly has come of that?”

Anakin doesn't think he can say what he wants to say--that the only good thing Palpatine did was encourage him to love Padmé. But he's already come close to losing most of what matters to him. Would it be so bad? "He encouraged me to cultivate close relationships," he says. "But I was already inclined to do that."

Master Windu glances over at Master Yoda, who merely inclines his head for Anakin to continue.

Anakin takes a deep breath. He is beginning to see that if he's really going to cleanse his system of Palpatine, he's going to have to be honest about this. "I wanted more than anything to be allowed to feel--love," he says. "And other things. Palpatine played on the fact that I wasn't allowed those things as a Jedi. He encouraged me to seek them out. But truthfully, I already was. I can't blame him for every time I've strayed from the Jedi path. And I'm not sorry for all of it."

Master Windu says, “I can’t say that’s entirely shocking to hear. Tell me, are you about to admit to past wrongs or present ones?”

"Both," Anakin says. "I'm married." It comes out as a half laugh, because it suddenly seems so absurd that he should need all that preamble just for that.

Master Yoda startles in his seat. Master Windu’s face goes slack. He doesn’t look stormy, as Anakin would have predicted. He looks stunned, like someone who’s just been badly hurt and can’t feel the pain yet.

“What did you say?” he asks.

"Married," Anakin says. "For a long time now. To Senator Amidala." Padmé won't mind. She only ever minded for his sake.

“Serious this is,” Master Yoda says. “In contempt of the Order. In contempt of your master. Of yourself, as well.”

“Tell me you don’t think this is a joke,” says Master Windu. “Or, please: tell me you’re joking.”

"I know it's not a joke," Anakin says. He feels almost giddy. "And I'm sorry if it's disrespectful. But having feelings for her hasn't stopped me from being a good Jedi. I managed that all on my own."

“A good fighter, yes,” Yoda says. “A good Jedi? That is what this meeting is intended to determine.”

Anakin nods. "I made mistakes. Because of Palpatine. Because of myself. But not because I was in love. But you deserve to know." They don't deserve to know about Obi-Wan. That's not Anakin's story to tell.

There’s a long silence, where Master Windu and Yoda seem to be communicating telepathically. Finally Master Windu says, “We need to talk. Do not think for an instant that your place in this Order is safe. Go wait in the hall with Obi-Wan and we’ll call you when we’re ready for you.”

Dizzy with adrenaline, Anakin goes back into the hall. "I did something crazy," he tells Obi-Wan when the door shuts behind him.

He sees Obi-Wan start to form a joke, and then look him up and down, and then change his mind.

“What have you done?” he says. He still looks ill, which makes it hard to admit to anything that will hurt him.

"I told them about Padmé," Anakin says. It still doesn't feel real, but it also feels like the easiest thing he's ever done.

“ _No,”_ says Obi-Wan. “Anakin, you didn’t, you--you did. I can see it, you did. Oh, Anakin. Did they--?”

"Not yet," Anakin says. "They want to talk about it without me. But how was I supposed to start over with them if I started off lying?" He didn't feel bad about it before, but looking at Obi-Wan's face, he feels bad now.

Obi-Wan grows even more pale. “How much did you tell them, exactly?” he asks, well under his breath.

"Just about Padmé," Anakin says. "I wouldn't tell them anything the other person wasn't all right with."

“So much for your fresh start,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m sorry. I’m spoiling it.”

"Stop," Anakin says. "I feel all right with this. Really. Whatever they decide." Because if they throw him out for this, he'll still have the things he broke the rules for.

“This was supposed to be a happy meeting,” Obi-Wan says wistfully, but it sounds forced.

"For you, maybe," Anakin says. "I'm not convinced they weren't going to throw me out anyway."

Obi-Wan isn’t stupid, but somehow he still looks shocked at the idea. “You saved my life,” he says. “And being tempted isn’t punishable by expulsion. You didn’t _do_ anything.”

"How do you think it looks?" Anakin says, with a gentleness that surprises him. "I was so close with him. He groomed me. He nearly turned me. They can't possibly trust me anymore."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I’ll tell them,” he says. “Even if they don’t listen, I’ll tell them what you did.”

Anakin's breath hitches. Obi-Wan is so violently loyal and good. Even after Anakin failed him. "Thank you," he says. "I'm willing to accept whatever they decide." A strange sort of peace has come over him. He has Padmé. He has Obi-Wan. So what if he has to go on without the Jedi? He's already going on without Palpatine.

Obi-Wan swallows and looks at him with anxious eyes, but before he can say anything else, the door opens and Master Windu leans out. 

“Come in, both of you,” he says. 

Obi-Wan rises awkwardly. “Come on, Anakin,” he says. “Time to see what you’ve wrought.”

Anakin walks in, shoulders back. He hovers beside Obi-Wan, breathing evenly and waiting. They can't hurt him. They wouldn't know how.

“Master Kenobi,” says Master Windu, and the formality sounds strange. “Please, don’t strain yourself. Have a seat.”

Obi-Wan glances at Anakin, then sits. 

“Obi-Wan,” says Yoda, “aware, were you, that Anakin had married Senator Amidala?”

Obi-Wan doesn’t look at Anakin this time. “Patronized by a Sith, and I missed him being married, too?” he says mildly. “Shameful ineptitude from a Jedi Master.”

“Master Kenobi,” Yoda says, and Obi-Wan takes a breath Anakin can see. 

Obi-Wan says, quiet but even, “I became aware after the fact, yes.”

"And you didn't think to tell us?" Master Windu asks, leaning forward.

“No,” says Obi-Wan. 

“Oh?” prods Master Yoda.

“It was not my point of greatest concern,” says Obi-Wan. 

"Nor Skywalker's," Master Windu says sourly.

Anakin shifts uncomfortably. Master Windu's dislike of him has always felt very personal.

Obi-Wan says, “I was concerned for his wellbeing, as I informed you more than once, but I admit I didn’t think Padmé was doing him any harm.” 

"What?" Anakin says, startled out of his silence. "Concerned for my well being?" This doesn't help his paranoia about Obi-Wan talking to the rest of the Council about him.

“Glad you should be that he was,” Yoda says. “Saved you from the Sith, he has, by continuing to look where you did not want him to.”

Obi-Wan’s back is very straight.

Anakin takes a breath, feels the force around him, and hangs his head. They're right. "I am glad," he says.

"Back to the matter at hand." Master Windu sounds annoyed. Or, if Anakin had to guest the feeling behind it, disappointed.

“Yes,” says Master Yoda. “Broken the code, you have, and taken Master Obi-Wan with you. Deceit is not his nature, I believe. You are not sorry for this?” 

"I'm sorry for lying," Anakin says. He feels nauseated for a moment, and he tries to breathe through it. "And I'm sorry that anyone else had to lie for me. But I'm not sorry for being with her."

Neither of the masters says anything for a long moment. Finally Yoda says, “Fortunate for all of us, that the two of you found out the Sith.”

"But that doesn't excuse this other behavior," Master Windu says, trying to catch Yoda's eye. "We've had to weigh those things against one another."

Anakin forces his breathing to be even.

“Delicate, the Jedi’s position is,” Yoda says. “Help us it would not, if we were to expel the two Jedi who brought Palpatine to justice. The side of the detractors, this would help.”

“I’m sorry,” says Obi-Wan. “Does that mean you are letting us off on a question of _politics_?” If Anakin didn’t know Obi-Wan so well, he would think the question was polite.

"Believe me, we're not happy either," Mace Windu says. "But you wouldn't be expelled anyway. We do seriously question your judgment in keeping this from us, though."

Obi-Wan, admirably, does not turn and look at Anakin. He says, “I understand.”

“The Council will know of your marriage,” Yoda tells Anakin. “They alone. Attend to your duties, you will, and not place Senator Amidala before what you must do as a Jedi.”

Anakin thinks he can do that. It's what he's been doing, mostly. Thankfully the two don't conflict very often. "Yes, Master," he says. He can't stop himself. He says, "I understand those are the rules about my marriage, but am I really not in trouble for anything that happened with Palpatine?"

"We don't really mete out punishment," Master Windu says. His face says that he wishes they did.

"Not punishment, then," Anakin says. "But there should be consequences. We all know I've lost my way." He makes himself look at Obi-Wan. "I know I've passed the Trials, but I don't think I'm done with my training. I wake to take a step back." He just wants to feel connected to something again, something that isn't dangerous or somehow twisted.

Yoda frowns, ears flattening backwards. “Training, you wish?”

Obi-Wan turns around to look at him; Anakin can’t read his face.

"Yes," he says, swallowing. This is all so difficult. "I think--I was very arrogant as a padawan. I rushed ahead. I feel like I've missed some steps. I never want to be in the position I was with Palpatine again."

"Hm!" Master Windu says.

“Unusual, this request is,” Yoda says. “Yet something to teach you, Obi-Wan may have. Learn from him, can you?”

"Yes," Anakin says. "Yes, I'll do better this time."

Master Windu clears his throat. "Obi-Wan, who keeps your secrets, even when they go against the code? I don't know if that's wise."

“If you would prefer someone else,” says Obi-Wan. Anakin thinks his refusal to meet Anakin’s eyes is a defensive maneuver. It would be so easy to tell them everything, and it would be so much worse if they did.

“Obi-Wan it will be,” Yoda says. “And no more secrets, hmm?”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan says.

"Yes, Master," Anakin agrees. He can meet Yoda's eyes and lie about that. Anything to protect Obi-Wan, who has always been a model Jedi.

"That settles that," Master Windu says, casting an opaque glance at Yoda. "Now hopefully we can begin to put this portion of the incident behind us."

“Obi-Wan,” says Yoda. “Skywalker is in your care. Believe in him, do you? His path? His trustworthiness?”

“With all my heart I do,” Obi-Wan says.

Anakin digs his nails into his palm, his throat tightening. _No one is as good as Obi-Wan._

Yoda nods. “Good,” he says. “Good. Then heal we will.”

 

xxv.

 

As soon as they’ve left their harrowing meeting with Yoda and Mace, Obi-Wan says, “Padmé will want to know what’s happened to you.”

"I'll go and see her," Anakin says. "Come with me." He's watching Obi-Wan in an almost furtive way, which isn't like him.

“I’ll come with you,” Obi-Wan says, smiling back. He glances backwards, but they’re far from the other Masters now, and nearly at the hanger. “Anakin, you can stop worrying. You came off very well, I think. And the rest of the Council--they won’t be happy about Padmé, but they won’t have any say. You’re safe.”

"I know I'm safe," Anakin says slowly. He doesn't say anything else until they're in his speeder. "It just doesn't seem fair," he says.

Obi-Wan settles beside him. He thinks he knows what’s happening here. “I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect any better,” he says. “I’m sorry, but we’re very lucky they accepted your marriage at all.”

Anakin huffs out a frustrated sound. "That's not what I meant. I mean not fair to you."

Obi-Wan is unpleasantly startled. “Fly first,” he says quickly. “Not here.”

"Right," Anakin says. He takes off--too fast, but smooth--and gets them out of the Temple. Once they've cleared its shadow, he says, "I don't care that I'm lying to them. But I care that I'm lying about you."

Obi-Wan’s head is waking up into a dull ache, and he has complicated and powerful feelings about this that he desperately does not want to examine. 

“Don’t be silly, Anakin,” he says, knowing it’s a pathetic response.

"I'm not," Anakin says doggedly. "I'm not ashamed of you any more than I'm ashamed of Padmé."

“But you know it’s different,” Obi-Wan says. “You’ve married her, you’re--she’s what you’ve chosen.” His hand grips convulsively at the edge of the speeder. Anakin is going to kill them all one of these days, with his terrifying flying.

Anakin does something worse and takes his eyes off the traffic to look at Obi-Wan. He stares at him for a second, then looks back at the other speeders. "You're so stupid, Master," he says.

“ _Excuse_ me,” Obi-Wan says, both annoyed and in a state of mild terror. 

"I chose you, too," Anakin shouts over the wind.

“Yes, but--” Obi-Wan starts, and then he remembers Anakin crying, _I love you, I love you, I’m sorry_ in his bedroom on Naboo. “But you’re not in love with me,” he says, like a question. The words barely form in his throat. He isn’t sure Anakin can hear him, since he almost can’t hear himself.

Anakin pulls above the traffic, racing through unregulated air. He says Obi-Wan's name. "Oh," he says. "You are so wrong." He looks at Obi-Wan. "I am in love with you," he says, as if it costs him nothing to say.

Obi-Wan laughs. He doesn’t think it’s funny, it’s just so impossible and painful that he can’t do anything else.

"I thought you knew," Anakin says. He dips back down into traffic as they approach Padmé's house. "I guess that's my fault."

Suddenly, Obi-Wan is overwhelmed. “I never expected anything,” he says. It’s barely a response.

Anakin passes two speeders so fast they're a blur before pulling the speeder almost vertical as they nosedive for Padmé's landing pad. "Neither did I," he says.

“So, so, so, _Anakin,”_ Obi-Wan yelps. “Please, even one traffic law!”

Anakin grins at him, all teeth, before landing as lightly as a feather on the landing platform. "Sorry, Master," he says.

“I swear, one of these days you’ll be the death of me,” Obi-Wan says, trying to catch his breath. He hates to admit that it’s a sincere worry. Curse Palpatine and his violence, for making Obi-Wan afraid.

"I don't think so," Anakin says gently, swinging himself out of the speeder and coming around to give Obi-Wan a hand. "Now do you understand why I wish I could tell them about you?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head, climbing down. His heart hurts, but he can’t bring himself to believe that what Anakin is saying is real. He shouldn’t even want it to be real. It’s a gnawing, terrible longing, and he knows he’ll be disappointed if he asks for too much. 

“I didn’t know,” he says. “For most of the last two years I didn’t think you even liked me.”

Anakin looks stricken. He opens his mouth and then stops. He takes a deep breath and says, "All right. That's fair. I wasn't acting like it.” He puts his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders. "But I don't care about anyone's opinion more than yours. And I don't sleep with people I don't care about. Master, I care about you _so much_."

Obi-Wan is so tired, and he wants that so badly. Aware that they’re still in the open air, he puts a hand to Anakin’s cheek and says quietly, “If I didn’t think I’d lose you, I’d tell them everything.”

"So would I," Anakin says fiercely. "Because you matter to me. The way she matters to me.'

Obi-Wan hears the words and splits the meaning in two entirely by habit, _The way she matters to me_ becomes, in a second, the opposite of that. He feels himself do it and for the first time really wonders if he has everything wrong. 

“You’re trying so hard to make me believe you,” he says. “So hard that maybe I should. But you don’t believe me either, do you?”

Anakin hesitates. "I don't know," he says. "I've been trying to change how I see a lot of things, since I found out about the Chancellor. He got inside my head so much. But don't think I wasn't listening on the beach."

Obi-Wan winces. He’s managed almost to forget that little scene took place, although it’s barely been any time at all. 

“I meant it,” he says. “I know I can be--reserved. But I did mean it. Not only as a mentor. I mean it all the time.”

Anakin swallows and nods. "I know," he says. "Now, anyway. But you have to believe me, too."

Obi-Wan exhales. “I already trust you,” he says. “I can learn to believe you. And perhaps you can learn to believe me. You said you know, but knowing isn’t the same as believing, is it? But now we’ve named the thing. That must be a start.”

Anakin nods. "I felt like everything was ending. But maybe it's the opposite. It's all right now, I think."

Obi-Wan exhales. “That’s right. It’ll be all right. Let’s go tell your wife what we know.”

~

“Anakin?” comes Padmé’s voice, and a moment later she appears in the doorway. “Oh, you’re both back! Is it all right? What happened?” She hugs Anakin with one arm and kisses Obi-Wan’s cheek.

Anakin smiles down at her. "It's all right. No one's being kicked out. They're going to have Obi-Wan train me some more. And I told them about you and me."

It’s to her credit that she reacts as mildly as she does. “Told them what?” she says, as if checking her hearing.

“They know you’re married,” Obi-Wan says. “And they allow it. Within limits. It’s a secret the Council will be keeping, now.”

"Yoda was a lot more lenient than I would have thought," says Anakin, who never seems to quite understand Yoda. "I'm sorry I couldn't warn you. They were asking me questions and it just came out."

Padmé nods slowly. “All right. Well. We’ll deal with that. I can’t believe they didn’t—it’s really all right?”

“I think Master Windu is a little...peeved,” Obi-Wan says. He looks around for a droid. He would very much like someone to bring him something to drink.

"But these are unusual times, and Obi-Wan and I helped save the galaxy," Anakin says. "Obi-Wan, you should sit." Obi-Wan could have predicted it to the second. Anakin has been fretting over him more than usual.

“I’m fine,” he says, “although I’m parched. Answering to the Jedi Council really dries you out.”

Padmé goes back to the doorway and relays something to a droid. 

“What else did you tell them?” she asks. 

“Oh, all things. They emptied our heads thoroughly,” says Obi-Wan.

"Not thoroughly," Anakin says, giving Obi-Wan a quelling look. "You should rest, Master."

The droid comes in with Obi-Wan’s drink--which is thankfully just water--and he takes it. “You’re chasing me away,” he says, “which is bad behavior for an apprentice. But I am a bit tired. I’ll let you have your gossip.” He waves with his prosthetic and is rather pleased with how naturally he does it.

"You can sleep in the guest room or our bed," Anakin says. "Just sleep." He watches the movement of Obi-Wan's hand closely, as if making sure it's not hurting him. "Rest well, Master."

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” Obi-Wan says optimistically. “Plan accordingly.”

xxvi.

Anakin sits down with Padmé on the couch, cupping her hands in his. He hopes she wasn't just saving her anger for when they were alone.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you first," he says. "I had to decide what to say, and there wasn't time."

“Oh!” she says. “No, I imagine they didn’t give you any time to prepare. And you probably weren’t allowed a call in the middle, either.” She raises his hand to kiss it on the knuckles briefly. “I’m not angry, Anakin, just planning our next move. Did Obi-Wan say it was only the Council who will know?” 

He nods. "I'm sorry for that, too. But I thought you might approve of that part. It's political." He wrinkles his nose. If politics were to stay out of his relationships entirely for the rest of his life he'd be happy.

Padmé laughs. “Poor Anakin. No, it’s better for now if it’s only the Council. Things with the Senate are going well, but if they knew I was in a relationship with one of the Jedi that ‘apprehended’ Palpatine, that could make things ugly. Words like _conspiracy_ come to mind.”

Anakin feels as if he's about to be swept away by a rush of anger, but he thinks of Padmé and Obi-Wan and catches his breath. "Are things ever going to be normal again?" he asks.

She smiles fondly. “Well, that depends on what you mean by normal,” she says. “What is the normal before that you’re missing so much?” 

"I guess I want something better than normal," Anakin says. "I want people to know about us." He sighs, thinking of the conversation with Obi-Wan in the speeder.

“Well,” says Padmé, “I think this is a step towards that, don’t you? Maybe not just now, but they can’t possibly expect to keep it to just the Council forever. Once the secret is out to one person, everyone else is inevitable. I’m sure you’ll get your wish, at least as far as you and I go.”

He nods. "And that's good. For the two of us." He hesitates. He doesn't want to devalue what they've achieved today. "Obi-Wan didn't think I loved him," he says.

Padmé looks shocked. “What?” she says. “What do you mean?”

Anakin shakes his head and curls closer to her. "He told me that like it was nothing. _Today_. After all of that." Padmé's shock echoes and makes Anakin feel worse about the situation.

Padmé’s arms come around him and squeeze him tight. “What did he think it all meant, then?”

"That it was just--something we were doing," Anakin says. "I wouldn't have done it if I knew!" It's all right now, it's all sorted out, but it feels awful in retrospect.

Padmé sighs. “I’m sure he knows it’s meant more than _something you were doing,”_ she says. “But I think you have to understand your part in why he’d say something like that.”

Anakin winces. "Yes. I do. I want to be better. I'm trying so hard."

She hugs him tightly. “I know,” she says. “And it will get better. Because you’re working on it. But it might be worth remembering that, even if you hadn’t been hard on him, Obi-Wan is the kind of person who never completely believes that they matter.”

"We have to show him," Anakin says fiercely. He hugs her back. "Both of you matter more than--anything." He swallows and squeezes his eyes shut, allowing himself to feel things he's not allowed to feel, without guilt or shame. "I love you."

“I know you do,” Padmé says. She hesitates. “You didn’t tell them about Obi-Wan, did you?”

"No," Anakin says, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "They would have handled that much worse, believe me."

“Because you’re both Jedi?” she asks. “Or because it’s him?”

Anakin hasn't wanted to think too much about what they'd say or why. "It wouldn't be good that he's my master, probably," he says. "They're going to let me train with him some more--and I think that's something they'd try to take."

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Padmé says gently.

"Yes," Anakin says. He tries not to feel angry at the Jedi. He's forcing himself to examine those thoughts every time they enter his mind. He doesn't want any more close calls. "But right now they love him. They do anyway, but especially now."

Padmé says, “With good reason. But, you know, I can’t imagine that this kind of thing is _unusual_. No matter what the rules are, it must happen all the time.”

"That's what I think!" Anakin says. "But of course there's no one I can ask. I'd ask Obi-Wan, but he'd probably never admit it." Anakin takes a deep breath. "Do you know if he and Qui-Gon were involved?" Anakin had been young and unobservant, and he still faults himself for that.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I don’t think so. I know Obi-Wan loved him, but I never asked how. And who could ever have guessed what Qui-Gon cared about? No offense to him.” She gives Anakin a slightly alarmed smile. “I don’t know if there’s been anyone but you. But Obi-Wan is so hard to pry anything out of, I really don’t know.”

Anakin swallows. It's a lot of responsibility, then. "I can't stop thinking about how he looked when I found him," he says.

Padmé goes still. “You haven’t said anything about that,” she says.

"It was too hard," Anakin says. "And I felt too guilty. You know how he hides it when he’s hurt--he couldn't. And Palpatine kept talking and talking, and then I could see his hand was gone and what had done it…" He clutches Padmé's arm convulsively. Palpatine made a grave miscalculation in thinking Anakin would trust him after that.

“Monster,” Padmé says with vehemence. “I can’t even tell you what I’d like to do to him, for you, for Obi-Wan, for inventing a war to get what he wanted.” She is pink with anger. “How dare he,” she says. 

"But we stopped him," Anakin says. “Obi-Wan by revealing him, me by refusing him, and now you, dismantling the damage he's done in the Senate. They ought to make you Chancellor."

“No thank you,” Padmé says immediately. “I’m happy where I am.”

"You're ideal," Anakin says. Not perfect, she doesn't like that. But ideal.

She breaks into a grin and kisses him. “I am so grateful,” she says. “I’m so grateful that you’re here.”

Anakin sinks into the kiss, closing his eyes. He's acutely aware of Obi-Wan in the next room. "We're all here," he says, both gratitude and a reminder.

She gives him a peck to his bottom lip and says, “Is he really all right? You can’t have solved years of misunderstanding in a few minutes’ conversation?”

"Probably not," Anakin says grudgingly. "I probably have to do something else. And then something else, and then another thing." Obi-Wan is not easy to get to, emotionally speaking. "But I think he's better than he was," he adds.

“You’ve been working hard,” she says. “And he loves you very much. You’ll get there.”

"I'm sick of working." Anakin knows he sounds like a petulant child, but he's so tired. Everything with Palpatine still feels like a weight that hasn't yet been lifted.

“Nothing is what you thought it was,” she says gently, putting a hand to his cheek. “I know.”

"But you are," he says, overcome suddenly with love for her. "You and Obi-Wan. Or he's not what I thought, but he's better."

She gives him a look so kind that it hurts. “It’s such a relief to see the two of you on the same side again,” she says quietly. “It was awful, the way things had gotten. It made me unsure of my place in things, knowing that you could be so angry with somebody you loved.”

So there are still layers of horror to uncover. "I didn't know," he says numbly. "I really didn't. How did it get that bad and I didn't even know?"

“Well, there’s Palpatine,” she says. “But you see things in high contrast anyway, you know. Sometimes, I think, you have a hard time stepping out of your feelings enough to see that what you feel isn’t the same thing as objective truth.”

"I should have asked for more training sooner," he says, horrified. "You didn't want to say anything?"

She looks at him closely, and then seems to back up swiftly. “I was only a little worried until we were on Naboo,” she said. “When I thought you were going to hurt him.”

"I was," Anakin says unhappily. "I mean, I did. I can't blame all of that on someone else. Palpatine didn't _make_ me do anything. But Obi-Wan still wants me around."

“He sees you,” Padmé says. “And so do I.” She gives a crooked smile. “And maybe we’re both very foolish. But it’s nobody else’s choice but ours, and I trust you to repair the damage and do better. We love you. It will be all right.” 

The words really do sink in this time. "It will," he says, eyes squeezed shut. "I'll help make it all right." He very much wishes Obi-Wan was awake.

She kisses his temple and holds his hands. 

“I know it’s hard,” she says. “But you’re very strong, Ani. You’re strong enough.” She gives his hands a squeeze. “I have to go to work, soon,” she says. “Stay here with Obi-Wan? I promise I’ll make time for you both as soon as I can.”

"Tomorrow, if you can," Anakin says. "I miss you. I haven't had a chance yet to prove to myself that you're both all right."

She smiles. “Tomorrow.” She stands, and brushes the palms of her hands against her skirts. “I’ll be back the second I can slip free,” she says.

"Be careful," he says. "I love you." He grips her shoulders--so carefully--and kisses her again before letting her go. Once the door is shut, he goes into the bedroom. Obi-Wan is sound asleep, which is what Anakin hoped for. He should be resting.

Anakin slips into bed next to him, feeling his body heat. He keeps playing Padmé's assertion that it's all right over and over in his head. With that in his head and his arms around Obi-Wan, he almost believes it.

xxvii.

Obi-Wan wakes up feeling significantly better than he has for days. Morning light is coming through the large windows of Padmé’s apartment, and when he searches for the source of the weight surrounding him, he finds Anakin on one side and Padmé on the other. It’s very nice. Anakin is such a relief, and Padmé--he isn’t used to seeing her with her hair down and her clothes simple. It makes her look young (as if he doesn’t already feel a little old) and capable of mischief. It makes him feel very fond.

"Oh, hello," she says softly, opening her eyes. "I thought I felt you stirring."

On his other side, Anakin is instantly awake and tensed.

Obi-Wan senses it, but he doesn’t react. He says to Padmé, “Good morning, my lady. I didn’t expect to find you here--but then, it’s your bed, isn’t it?”

"It's all right, Master Jedi, I'm generous enough to share," she says, eyes sparkling. "Oh, Anakin, don't look like that."

Anakin gives a slightly flustered laugh. "I'm not. How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?" His hand drifts to Obi-Wan's hip and stays there.

Obi-Wan turns gingerly onto his back, finding that he doesn’t need to be so ginger as he expects. Anakin, sure enough, is trying in vain to hide some complex array of tortured expressions. Obi-Wan laughs. “Look at you,” he says. “I thought you wanted us to get along. Not that we ever haven’t.”

"In case you've forgotten, it's been a stressful week," Anakin says. "But I'm told that it's going to be all right."

Padmé laughs, low and musical. "That's right. That's the plan."

Obi-Wan feels shockingly comfortable, between the two of them. It reminds him of the bath at Padmé’s cousins’ house, except the Force is calm within him, and his heartbeat is steady. He doesn’t say anything, only shuts his eyes and smiles.

A long, still moment passes. Then Padmé puts her hand on Obi-Wan's chest and says, "How _are_ you feeling?" Her leg, pressed against his, is very warm.

Obi-Wan’s breath slips out of him softly. “Well,” he says slowly. “Very well.” He keeps his eyes closed, but his skin is singing. He can feel Anakin shifting to his left.

Padmé hooks her leg over Obi-Wan's. "What a relief," she says. Obi-Wan opens his eyes as Padmé leans over toward Anakin, letting him kiss her mouth.

A laugh catches itself in Obi-Wan’s chest. It’s surprise, and the delightful realization that he’s happy with what’s happening. “Padmé,” he says.

"Obi-Wan," she says, and when she kisses him, he can feel her smile. At the same time, Anakin's hand is on his shoulder, tightening almost enough to hurt, but not quite.

Obi-Wan runs his hand through Padmé’s hair, cups her cheek, kisses her back like a very loving exchange of bows. Maybe it’s too polite, but Obi-Wan is polite, and anyway he thinks that she likes it.

When she finally pulls away enough to take a breath, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are sparkling. "I should have done that much sooner," she says. She reaches over and gives Anakin's hair a tug. "Don't worry, you're not forgotten."

"I know," he says with something like wonder.

Obi-Wan thinks, peaceably but with regret, that he likes being sunk amongst the pillows, down here. Jedi don’t provide themselves very many luxuries, and neither strange planets nor battleships offer them. It’s possible that soon, he will have to move; on the other hand, it may be worth the loss.

“Anakin,” he says gently, like the word is his hand. He uses the word instead of his hand, since the hand on Anakin’s side is the wrong one, and he still feels like it’s not allowed for moments like this.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin says, gazing at him seriously. He ducks his head and kisses Obi-Wan, allowing him to nestle among the pillows a little longer. Anakin's kiss is more aggressive than Padmé's. There are teeth in it. 

Obi-Wan shivers, reaches up with his right hand for Anakin’s neck, pulls him in and tastes him until his stomach is in knots. He feels Padmé’s hands on his body and moans into Anakin’s mouth.

Obi-Wan can feel Anakin's muscles tense as he grips Obi-Wan's waist with one hand. His hand meets Padmé's for a moment and they both squeeze Obi-Wan's hip bone. Their hands are nimble and relentless as they touch him.

He reaches for them. He drags Anakin in close and runs his hand down Padmé’s spine and makes himself breathless touching them. But he’s not any match. There are two of them, and it’s currently not so hard to hold him down.

Padmé, apparently not wasting any time, pulls away for a moment to take her robe off. "I'd do this in stages," she explains, "but it's all one piece. I don't have an opportunity to be coy."

Obi-Wan has seen her naked once before. She is a familiar, wonderful sight, and she still knocks the breath out of him. It’s so recent, that he was fighting with Anakin over his seeing her. Everything in the world has changed.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, yes. Oh.” He feels as if he’s on fire.

Anakin, who has surely seen her naked hundreds of times, is looking at her with such hungry, deep want that it makes Obi-Wan dizzy.

"You're still dressed," she tells Anakin severely, but with a laugh behind it. Startled into motion, he gets rid of his clothing as well. The whole time, both of them keep their eyes on Obi-Wan.

“I feel wildly unprepared,” he says. “Or overdressed. Or all the above.” He’s shaking with anxious, fiery need.

"I'm sure we can take care of both of those things," Padmé says, halfway between brisk and playful. She settles next to him in the bed again and hooks her leg back over his. She tugs his tunic open while kissing him.

He lets her tug noises out of his throat, small and needy and uncontrolled. He snatches a glimpse of Anakin, kneeling above him, and nearly cries. He feels it, in the Force between them. He sees it in Anakin’s expression. _I love you,_ Anakin had said, and Obi-Wan hadn’t understood.

Anakin divests Obi-Wan of the rest of his clothing, letting his hands skate over Obi-Wan's skin. "How are we going to do this?" The question seems mostly directed at Padmé.

"What do you want?" she asks Obi-Wan. Her hair is in her face and the her face and chest are flushed.

What he wants and what he can ask for without dying of embarrassment might not be the same thing, he thinks, but even as he thinks it he realizes he doesn’t care. He’s so unfrightened that he could ask for anything.

“Anakin,” he says. “I want him. And to touch you.” Let that mean anything he’s bold enough to try.

Anakin huffs out a breath and says, " _Yes_." He pulls Obi-Wan close and bites down on his shoulder, letting his hands thoroughly explore him. Obi-Wan feels opened up, naked in every sense, even though it's all something they've done before. 

It’s hard to remember the promise of what he wants, to detach himself enough from Anakin’s touch to reach for Padmé. But he does it, he wrenches himself out from under Anakin’s spell and touches her warm skin. She kisses him, and his hands moved unsteadily down her body. He can barely think. He can barely see. He isn’t sure how it’s humanly possible to survive feeling like this.

Anakin is no less intense than usual, but he's careful, every motion accounted for. When he eases inside Obi-Wan, that's careful, too. But his hands on Obi-Wan's body are insistent, almost frantic. Padmé gasps at every touch from Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan’s expectations all sink away inside a pleasure so overwhelming and unimaginable that his language is lost. He’s nearly sobbing as his hand slips between Padmé’s legs. Anakin’s hands on his chest, Anakin’s cock deep inside him, make his vision white out. He slips a finger into Padmé, hot and wet, and has to bite down hard on his lip to keep from coming too soon.

Anakin is making noises he doesn't usually make, and Padmé's breathing keeps hitching with the movements of Obi-Wan's fingers. All three of them feel as if they're connected at all points, hot and close and safe. Pamde leans over Obi-Wan to kiss Anakin, and then Anakin is coming, crying out into her mouth.

Padmé makes a strangled, needy noise. She pushes her body against Obi-Wan’s fingers and wraps her fingers hard around his cock. It only takes a few quick strokes. Obi-Wan practically screams, still so overwhelmed as it happens that he isn’t sure he can ever be satisfied. He hears Padmé follow him, and then his vision clears and he’s lying between them, limp and happy and possessing human reason again. Or, he will possess human reason. In a moment, he will.

Anakin recovers first, amazingly. He props himself up on his elbow and looks at the two of them. "This is better," he says.

“Better than what?” Obi-Wan asks. He has an idea, but he’d like to hear the specifics. He glances at Padmé, who is nestled on her side, smiling at Obi-Wan from behind curled hands.

"Than before," Anakin says. "Better than lying. Better than splitting off in twos." He gives Padmé a worried smile.

"I agree." Padmé props herself up on his other side. "And better than walking around not talking to each other about anything real." She squeezes Anakin's arm and drops a kiss on Obi-Wan's cheek.

Obi-Wan lets himself sink into the pillows, contemplating. He didn’t expect this. Then, he’s been expecting things all wrong for so long he hardly remembers what it’s like to be right. Maybe he should have been making fewer assumptions, and leaning more on faith. He leans into the Force now, feels the way it reverberates between the three of them, peaceful, present. 

“Yes,” he says. “This _is_ better.”


End file.
